


The Present Changes the Past

by politics_and_prose



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, More Couples to Be Added, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2019-07-29 19:37:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 54,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16270949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/politics_and_prose/pseuds/politics_and_prose
Summary: Mouse has been a newsie since the day Race took her in.  After the strike, everything she's known about her life gets turned upside down with seven little words.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for joining me on this ride, folks!
> 
> My Newsies references are all from the Netflix Broadway production, local productions and the 1992 movie. For the purposes of this story, everyone is who they are in the Netflix movie (except Smalls).

Mouse didn’t remember being born. She didn’t remember being one or two or three. She thought maybe she remembered being four and in a house with a few other kids and a frazzled older lady, but she couldn’t be sure. The first concrete memory she had was when she was five and a lady came to her house, at least she’d thought it was her house, and told her it was time to go to another house. She was only at the new house for a little while before she was sent to a house with a couple adults and a ton of kids. Then another lady and man came, she thought she was still five then, and took her to their house. The cat made her sneeze a lot so they gave her back pretty quick. She was just past her sixth birthday when she went to another family. There were lots of kids, not as many as the group house, and lots of fights. She tried to stay out of them but wasn’t always able to do it. 

She was seven when she was packed up and sent to another house. The mom was never around and the dad looked at her in a way that gave her the shivers so she ran away after a couple months. They caught her and the mom and dad didn’t want her back so it was back to the group home again.

Between seven and eight, she was placed in three more homes. After the last, a mom who smoked a lot and hit the kids when they spoke too loudly, she decided she wasn’t going back to the group home but she wasn’t staying there. Sure, she’d learned to stay quiet – “ _Be more like Margaret learned, quiet as a mouse”_  – but she couldn’t bear it anymore. She would rather live on the streets than watch kids get hit or get hit herself just for talking. And she was done going to the group home, watching kid after kid get adopted and not come back while she was returned like a dented can from the grocer.

Mouse was a week or so into living on her own when she literally ran into a kid. He was a little taller than her with really curly, light brown or dark blonde – or just plain dirty blonde – hair. Skinny, with bright blue eyes, he stared at her with a wrinkled nose. She stared back, her dress tattered, her thick, curly dark hair unwashed and her face caked with the dirt from the alley she’d slept in the night before.

_“Youse lost?”_

_“No.”_

_“Youse hidin’?”_

_“No.”_

A long, thoughtful pause.  _“Youse got a place to live?”_  When her eyes darted around, he sighed.  _“Come wi’ me. We’s gotta cut ya’ hair and youse gotta be quiet but I can get ya’ inta the Lodge. Jus’ say youse a boy, ‘kay?”_

He’d introduced himself as Racetrack on account of him liking the horses and took her to where the newsies lived in lower Manhattan. It was all boys, which she didn’t mind but didn’t think was right, and Racetrack introduced her – hair cropped short and jagged by some broken glass – as Mouse  _“on account a’ he’s quiet”_.

The fellas figured out pretty quick that she was a girl but it took Kloppman until she was twelve and couldn’t really hide it anymore – at least once a month. He didn’t kick her out, though, just told her  _“no funny business”_  and she didn’t know what that meant but when she asked the nuns, she blushed bright red and ran back to the Lodge to promise over and over again that there would be no funny business from her.

Boys came and went and she let her hair grow and when she was thirteen, another girl moved in along with the famous Jack Kelly. He’d been famous among newsies in lower Manhattan on account of how good he was at selling papers in Midtown. He’d gotten arrested and sent to the Refuge, got out and stole stuff to take back to the kids. He got caught and arrested again – she figured he was a better fella than thief – but escaped and moved from Midtown to lower Manhattan.

He became their leader almost right away on account of a couple fellas aging out but him being older and experienced. He was the same age as Race and the two sort of became the boss. Blink sometimes too but he was sort of always on his own so they never really knew where he stood with stuff.

Being a newsie was hard work but it was honest work. People tended to look at her funny, or more often with a lot of pity, because she was a girl and dirty and wearing boys clothes, but she didn’t mind as long as they bought a pape. It didn’t always work, the sympathy card, but she figured she’d use it as long as she could before finding another way to move the fifty or sixty she dragged around with her.

When the price of papes was raised, she figured she was screwed. She briefly considered asking Miss Medda if there was anything at all she could do at the theater – she wasn’t a painter like Jack but she had a knack for building and fixing stuff – but then Race had put an arm around her and promised they’d figure it out.  _“I ain’t never let ya’ down ba’for, Mouse, an’ I ain’t gonna start now.”_  

It was Jack and the new guy, Davey, who came up with the strike plan. It scared the crap out of her but Race took one of her hands and Crutchie took the other and she knew that with her best friends by her side, nothing bad could really happen.

Boy-o, was she wrong.

The soaking they all took after trashing the distribution center was one that would stick with her for the rest of her life. Growing up, the guys usually protected her, making sure everybody knew that it wasn’t right to hit girls. She and Smalls tried not to fight with the boys so they weren’t left without a way to fight back. Jack called it mutual respect.

The Delancey brothers had no such mutual respect.

When they were ambushed by the hired thugs and the bulls, all of them stayed and fought back, including her and Smalls. The fellas tried to help and protect them but they weren’t strong enough. Or fast enough.

Mouse thought for sure they were all lucky to be alive. Even Crutchie, who’d been arrested on account of him being too slow. He got taken to the Refuge but he was alive. Her and the others, they got beat up real bad, but they were alive.

_“Stay still an’ lemme make sure ya’ don’t need a doc!”_

_“Shut it, Race, I’s fine. Elmer got socked in th’ head real bad. Check on ‘im!”_

It was a constant struggle between her and Race, but she liked it. He cared about her and she cared about him and that was the important part. They were family, her and Race, and she knew they always would be, no matter what.

Their fame was short-lived, even when the girl reporter, Katherine, got them on the front page of The Sun. She didn’t spend much time over around that pape so she didn’t know much about it, but she thought it must be okay if they let a girl write for them. And after how Pulitzer had them all soaked real bad, she thought maybe she could convince Racer and some of the others to go over to The Sun to sell instead. The price would still be bad but Weasel and the others wouldn’t be there to hurt them anymore.

_“I ain’t leavin’ the fellas, Mouse, an’ I don’t think youse is gonna either.”_

_“It would be safer, prolly.”_

_“I tol’ ya’ that I …”_

_“I know. I ain’t mad atcha. We all got busted up. Prolly woulda gone a different way if you’da gone ta’ Brooklyn ‘steada Jack and Davey.”_

A chuckle and wiggled eyebrows led to a good, hard shove and a silent agreement not to leave the fellas or The World.

When Jack didn’t show up for the rally Davey planned, she got nervous. Gripping the back of Race’s shirt while Davey took charge, she wondered if it was gonna be like that from then on. Jack would start something, then run, then Davey would fix it. He’d been good for them, all of them, but he wasn’t the leader Jack was.

She had to bite her tongue to keep from suggesting Spot take over as the leader. Davey was a good number two but his confidence wasn’t high enough to be the fella in charge. Not that she blamed him; he’d only been a newsie for a short while before everything went to hell. 

More than once.

Jack was a sellout, something she didn’t want to be the one to tell Crutchie when he got out of the Refuge, and the newsies were frustrated and scared and thrown into disarray.

After Jack almost hit Les –  _Les_  – she’d taken Davey’s hand and led him back to the Lodge with the others.

_“I just don’t understand. How could he …?”_

_“Money changes things, Davey. Jack ain’t never had none but always wanted it. He got it in a crummy way but …” A shrug. “We just gotta figure out the next move without ‘im.”_

_“There ain’t no next move, Mouse! He sold out. He’s gone. We just gotta hope the price don’t go up again. We ain’t gonna make rent if it does with the crummy headlines Pulitzer’s been puttin’ out.”_

_“Can it, Racetrack. We’ll …”_

It didn’t matter much what she had to say after that because there was shouting from the roof and Specs smiling from the chair in the corner and before she could figure out what was going on, Jack and Katherine were storming by, one grabbing Davey and the other grabbing Race before marching out the door.

_“Tell the fellas to come to The World, Peg!” Jack had called back. “Be there in an hour!”_

Mouse had done what she was told and had filed into the dusty cellar once Race had come out and said it was time. They all piled in, and she took a wrench and went to work on listening to what the stuffy kid in the glasses told her to tighten or adjust. She felt like she was finally contributing to the cause once the machine started making a noise that made Glasses smile and get to printing. 

Once she was loaded down with Banners, she took some of the smaller kids with her to distribute the papes in places where they’d be able to get in and out quick without drawing much attention. She helped some of the little kids read – Specs had taught her how and she was pretty good at it now – and then told them where to go and when to be there.

Jack’s announcement that they won made her scream and jump for joy and hug everyone she could get her hands on. She didn’t really know why she jumped away from Davey as fast as she did but she was glad to be able to throw her arms around Finch to distract her from her thoughts. Finch’s hug also gave her time to cool her blush-warmed face.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

Looking up from the cup of soup she held between her hands, she smiled at Race. “How I seen Oscar this mornin’ sellin’ papes for The Tribune,” she answered. “I almost went over ta’ give ‘im some pointers but then decided he could prolly figure it out all on his own. One day.”

“Youse trouble,” her best friend laughed. “Cute as a button but walkin’ hellfire.”

“She prolly takes that as a compliment!” Finch called from a few seats down. “Dontcha, Mouse?”

“All day, er’ry day,” she answered proudly before sipping some of the soup.

A loud cheer went up through the newsies and she looked to the door to see Jack come through, the girl-reporter on his arm. They looked like a mismatched pair but Mouse didn’t care much on account of Jack smiling like he was really happy and not just because he was expected to be.

The two waved and greeted their friends while their eyes scanned the room before landing on her. Her eyes darted around, stopping on Elmer, silently asking if he had any idea why they were looking for her. A shrug was her only answer. 

“Heya, Peg,” Jack said as he shoved Mush out of his seat beside her and let Katherine sit. He pushed Mush’s food to the side and sat on the table where it was. He looked nervous about something, like he didn’t want to say anything at all, but Katherine was giving him this face and he sighed, obviously resigned to tell her whatever was on his mind.

“Heya, Jack.”

The fellas had quieted down, their attention turned to her and Jack, and Race and Davey had stood up. Her eyes darted around and she wondered if she and Smalls were getting kicked out or something. Her friend was nowhere to be seen and panic gripped her chest.

“I’m a good newsie,” she said reflexively. “I sell more n’ Albert and Sniper combined most days.” Two offended “HEY!”s sounded from the other side of the room but she ignored them. “I’m a  _good newsie_ , Jack,” she repeated.

Jack looked horrified and Katherine confused, but Race was the first one to talk. “Mouse, calm down. Hows about we go outside?”

She looked up at him, the way his jaw was set, and she knew he was in on whatever was happening. Without acknowledging the idea, she stood and headed for the door silently, knowing they would follow. She also knew the other fellas would have their face pressed against the glass trying to find out what was going on, so she headed around the side of the building and leaned against the brick wall of the alley.

“We ain’t kickin’ you out,” Jack said as he rounded the corner. “Honest. It’s not about newsie stuff. Not … exactly.”

“Then what’s it about?” she asked as she crossed her arms. She absently noticed Davey hadn’t come out with them and she wondered why that was. Frowning, she reached up and grabbed Race’s cigar to fiddle with nervously between her fingers.

Her friend’s protest was silenced with a look, which he then turned on Jack and Katherine. “Just remember that I told youse guys that this was a bad idea.”

“What’s a bad idea?” she asked, her eyes narrowing at Jack.

He opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it, instead turning to Katherine. “This is all you, Ace.”

Katherine pursed her lips and looked like she wanted to give Jack a piece of her mind but instead, smoothed her features and turned her attention to Mouse. “I have a friend who would like to meet you.”

Skeptical, she turned to look at Race, who looked pissed, and Jack, who looked uncomfortable. Obviously they knew who it was and didn’t seem to think it was a good idea. Leave it to Jack to get caught up with a girl who was bossy enough to make him do something he didn’t want to do. “Who?”

“He asked that I let him introduce himself properly. I’m sorry I can’t tell you more,” the older girl said. Mouse detected the sympathy in her voice and she worried that it was someone she probably shouldn’t be meeting. “He’s a nice guy,” she added, “I promise. And – and we’ll go with you. All of us.”

“Wha – I –“

“ _All of us,_  Jack,” she confirmed loudly.

Mouse looked over to Race, a question unasked. He sighed and nodded, though he didn’t look happy about it. In fact, he looked kind of sad. With a frown, she reached out and took his hand. “I won’t go,” she told him softly. “If it’s got you –“

“You should,” he interrupted. “We should.” He looked up to Katherine. “When?”

“How about tonight?” she asked with a pleased and victorious grin. “After you bathe, of course.”

Wrinkling her nose, she looked up at Jack and Race. “I gotta take a bath for this?”

“We’ll go back to my place,” Katherine decided aloud, the smile still on her lips. “I’ll be able to do something to control your hair if I have my products handy.” She reached out and took Mouse’s hand, tugging her out of the alley. “No time to waste. We’ve got to get you ready and I need to call him and let him know where to meet us. 

Helpless, Mouse let Katherine drag her along, Jack and Race trailing behind. Her stomach grumbled at the reminder of her abandoned soup but she didn’t say anything. The way she figured it, the sooner she did what Katherine wanted and met whoever the guy was, the sooner she would be able to scrounge something up to fill her belly. 

When they got to Katherine’s place, a little apartment with a typewriter set up on a desk in the front window and one of Jack’s hats hanging on the coat rack, the older girl dragged her into the bathroom and poured a bath for her. It was freezing but Katherine just tutted and told her to rinse out her hair.

Scrubbed clean, she was led into Katherine’s bedroom and told to sit while they found her something to wear. Unfortunately, Katherine was tall and shapely and there was nothing that would fit her. “Guess I’m goin’ in the buff!” she joked and the boys laughed; their host didn’t.

“I’ll get my sister to bring something,” she told them seriously as she turned and walked out of the room.

“I don’t like skirts!” Mouse called out but her response fell on deaf ears. With a frown, her hair dripping wet and a towel wrapped snugly around her body, she glared at the boys who were trying to be gentlemen and not look at her when she wasn’t dressed. “Both youse guys owes me fer this,” she told them seriously. “I ain’t never …” She tugged at a wild and saturated curl. “Owes me  _so big_.”

Before either one of them could come up with a response, Katherine came back in scowling. “I suppose I can just cut down one of my skirts for you. It’ll only be a few inches.”

“Oh for cryin’ out loud,” Mouse groaned. “I’ll jus’ hike the damn thing up if I gotta wears it.”

Reluctant but out of options, Katherine agreed and shooed the boys out so she could get Mouse ready to go. It took longer than either girl had anticipated, which resulted in Race banging on the door and hollering that he was gonna call the whole stupid thing off if they didn’t hurry up. “I’m already missin’ my card game!”

Mouse opened her mouth to say they could call the whole thing off but she was silenced with a look from Katherine, then the declaration that they were done.

She felt overly small and incredibly uncomfortable but she let out a breath and stood. The skirt was a good five inches too long so she hiked it up and walked out of Katherine’s bedroom.

“Holy moly, youse look like a  _proper lady_ ,” Jack said with a grin.

“Or a lil’ girl tryna be a proper lady,” Race amended with a playful shove at his buddy. “I ain’t seen you in a dress since … damn, since the day I found ya.”

“And ya ain’t gonna see it again so youse better commit it to memory. Can we go now?”

The four of them left Katherine’s apartment shortly after, grins on the faces of Katherine and Jack and frowns on the faces of Mouse and Race.

“Tell me who we’re goin’ ta’ see,” she pleaded with her best friend. “You know how I don’ like surprises."

“I would if I could, kid. I can’t though. It ain’t – it ain’t my surprise ta’ tell. 

As they entered Central Park from the south, the group got quite a few looks. Racer, with his dirty clothes and unlit cigar; Jack with his grin and his swagger; Katherine with her beautiful clothes and confidence; and Mouse, with her too big skirt and unflattering scowl.

Mouse tripped for the fifth time and was about to call the whole thing off – or turn tail and run – when Katherine’s voice cut through her thoughts. “There he is.”

The four approached a well-dressed young man wearing a hat. She could feel Race tense beside her as the man stood and approached. When he removed his hat, she got a strange feeling in her stomach. She knew him but she couldn’t place him. Maybe she’d sold a pape or two to him before.

“Damn, I didn’t even notice it before,” Jack whispered to Katherine, drawing Mouse’s attention away from the fella who stood in front of her.

“Notice what?”

His answer was cut off by the unknown man nervously extending his hand. “Hello. I’m Bill. Hearst.”

She glanced over at Race, whose fists were clenched as he pointedly looked in the other direction. Confused, she looked back to Bill. “Mouse. Wait,” she added quickly. “Bill Hearst as in The Journal?”

“Yes, or, rather, his son. You said your name is Mouse?” 

“Margaret,” she amended. “But ev’rybody calls me Mouse. Katherine said you wanted to meet me. Why?”

Bill smiled and Mouse was kicked in the gut with a familiarity that took her by surprise. He smiled the same way she did.

“Well,” Bill said nervously as he twisted his hat around in his hands. “I saw you a couple of weeks ago. At The World.” At her nod, he continued. “And it – what I mean to say is.” He barked out a nervous laugh that sounded like he was reluctant to continue but knew he had to.

Mouse didn’t like that sound one bit.

“I believe you may be my sister.”

There was complete silence for a moment, not one of the five of them making a noise, before Mouse laughed so loud a flock of pigeons took off from thirty yards away. “Yeah, sure! I’m the daughter of William Randolph Hearst. You hear that, Race?” she laughed as she nudged him. Her face fell when he didn’t laugh too. “Race?”

He pulled the cigar from his lips and looked down at her. “I donno, Mouse. I mean, youse two look like ya’ could be twins almost.”

She looked to Jack and Katherine. “This is … youse guys is havin’ fun wi’ me, right?”

Jack silently looked away but Katherine stepped closer, her hand reaching out to clasp Mouse’s. “No, Margaret. We’re not having fun with you. We have … we have some pretty compelling evidence that you are his sister. Well, half-sister. And it’s not just the eyes or the smile or the hair. It’s possible.” She licked her lips. “I’d even go so far as to say it’s probable.” 

Mouse blinked up at the older girl for a minute before turning her eyes to Jack, then Race, then finally Bill. He was patiently waiting, though she could tell by the slight twitch at the corner of his eye that he was nervous. She knew that’s what it meant because Mush always told her she got it too.

Fear crashed down over her like a tidal wave. Swallowing, she shook her head and pulled her hand from Katherine’s. 

“Peg …” Jack started, but she only shook her head. She couldn’t even look at him.

“This ain’t real,” she said softly to herself as she started slowly backing away. “This … this ain’t real.” Her eyes flew up to Race’s when she felt his hand on her shoulder. He didn’t say anything but he didn’t have to. She’d known him long enough to read his thoughts plain as day on his face.

“It ain’t real,” she repeated once more before doing the only thing she thought her body, brain and heart could handle: hiking up her skirt and taking off in the opposite direction. She heard the others calling after her but she didn’t stop. Eventually, she stopped hearing her name and she allowed herself to sink down against the brick wall she found herself beside. “It ain’t real,” she told herself softly. “It ain’t.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill's side of the story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who don't know, I've definitely altered the timeline for the Hearst family to fit my story. William wasn't born until 1908. William Randolph Hearst did have an affair with actress Marion Davies, but she was only 2 when the strike happened. Hearst Senior and Davies had a longstanding affair (even living together for many years) and after Patricia Lake died, it was revealed that she was the daughter of Hearst and Davies.

Being the second of five sons, William Randolph Hearst, Jr., thought growing up that he would be able to do whatever he wanted. It was no secret that his father was one of the richest and most powerful men in New York City, known to everyone for his journalism prowess and the dominance of his newspaper. George, the eldest Hearst scion, had been his father’s favorite and once Bill reached age seven and was allowed to play instead of study all day, Bill didn’t mind at all. He was his mother’s favorite and that was all that mattered.

But then George started to rebel and John had little patience for sitting still long enough to be taught anything about the newspaper business so, at ten, William Randolph Hearst, Jr. – Billy to his mother – became his father’s protégé. He was now the favorite son and destined to take over his father’s newspaper empire.

No one really cared that he didn’t want it.

The trouble was, or so Bill figured, that he was smart and quick to pick up on any task that was put in front of him. His mother told him daily that he was so smart, so bright, that he would take over the world by the time he was twenty.

_“I’d give the boy The World if it meant getting Joe out of the business for good.”_

_“William, you know you wouldn’t be half as content as you are now without Joseph Pulitzer to compete against.”_

_“Still. Perhaps we can make a little arrangement …”_

_“Absolutely not. Now, finish up your work. Supper will be ready shortly and Georgie will be home for it.”_

By the time he was fifteen, he knew everything about the newspaper business there was to know, from how to select editorials to how to typeset and print the papers himself.

_“You hardly need me around anymore, my boy! Excellent, excellent. Soon enough, this will all be yours.”_

By the time he was seventeen, his family was a mess, to put it nicely. His father’s mistress was living with them, his mother drank more than the bums that lined the sidewalks, his brothers were all forced to be part of the family company in one way or another, and he was being told it was time to start looking for a wife.

_“I’m_ seventeen _.”_

_“And a Hearst. A wife means you may not have to go to war.”_

_“Can’t we just pay for someone to go in his place, William?”_

Thankfully, it never came to that. But once the war ended, family was the least of his problems. The Journal, along with all of the other newspapers, saw drastic drops in circulation. With the end of the war his father helped to sensationalize, people weren’t willing to pay a nickel for a newspaper that was just going to tell them the weather or something else much less interesting.

And then Joe Pulitzer went and raised prices for his newsies. His father, Mr. Reid and the others all fell in line and did the same, though Bill couldn’t understand why.

_“Won’t we get more newsies to sell The Journal if we keep prices lower?”_

_“I made a deal with Joe, William. I’ll honor it as long as he does. That’s just good business.”_

When the kids went on strike, he secretly wanted to join them. Instead, he stood in his office and watched the mob below. Luckily, the kids seemed to focus on The World and not on The Journal. Part of him, however, wished the wagons he controlled would be toppled in a fight for justice. He was itching to be part of the revolution those kids were leading but there was just no way for him to do it and not lose the company.

Not until Katherine Pulitzer got involved, at least.

_“Bill, this is it. It could be my big break.”_

_“You mean it could be Katherine Plumber’s big break.”_

_“It’s the same thing. Just think of it. A woman with a front page headline she_ wrote _. Can’t you just see it?”_

_A smile. “Only you.”_

She kept him and Darcy up to date on the happenings of the striking kids. He and their friend were both envious of her for being able to be involved, though he wished she hadn’t been there during the riot.   Thankfully she’d had the sense to run and keep herself from getting hurt like the kids did. And the resulting article was a prize-winner, in his opinion. Too bad it only ran in The Sun and Pulitzer shut down the other papers from being able to run their own stories.

_“It’s an important story!”_

_“William, enough. This isn’t just about The World. If it works there, it’ll work here. Be smart. The blackout stands. Find me a good headline for the trolley strike.”_

Every passing day had his hands itching to get dirty. He wanted to be in the trenches with Katherine and the newsies, defying what was expected of him and giving the kids the voice they richly deserved.

It took another week before Katherine came to him and Darcy with a plan.

_“We’re putting together our own paper and distributing it to all of the working children of New York,” she told him as his eyes scanned the words she’d typed. “The Children’s Crusade.”_

_Carefully, he handed the paper over to Darcy and nodded. “Count me in.”_

Breaking into – or being admitted to while not technically belonging there – The World sent a spike of adrenaline through his body. He was finally part of something important, doing something to help the kids he may have known and palled around with if he hadn’t been born to the parents he’d been born to. Not for the first time, he both thanked his lucky stars and cursed them. He was comfortable, warm, wealthy and powerful; he had no idea what it was like to be these kids or how much this rebellion really meant to them.

When Katherine introduced Darcy to Jack, the poor kid looked like he had no idea what to do. And when she introduced him …

_“Ah, uh, Bill? So I suppose you’re the son of William Randolph Hearst, right?”_

_“And proud to be a part of your revolution.”_

Once the kids came filing in, they all worked together like they’d been doing it for years. While Darcy led a team of kids getting the press in order, he gathered his tools to go set the article and get it ready for print.

That was when he turned and walked right into one of the newsies.

“I’m so so-“ He froze when he looked down into the face of a girl who was probably three to four years younger than him. A girl who quickly mumbled something and ran back over to the printing press. A girl with his nose and his eyes.

It took a couple of days for Katherine to come down from her post-strike victory high and return his call. His nerves were frayed and he paced his office more than his father did when circulation was down.

“Bill?”

He whipped around and sighed in relief when he saw his friend standing in the doorway. “Thank god. “

“What’s going on?” she asked, frowning at him as he marched past her to shut the door and draw the blinds, ensuring their conversation would be private and away from prying eyes. “Billy?”

“Who was the girl? At The World. Who was she?”

Katherine frowned and thought for a moment. “There were two. Smalls and Mouse.”

“Dark hair. Real curly.”

“Mouse. Uh, Peg, Jack calls her. I think her name is Margaret. Why?”

Bill started pacing again. Peg. Margaret. She _looked_ like she could be a Margaret. “What do you know about her?”

Crossing her arms, Katherine moved over to lean against his desk while he started pacing again. “I repeat: why?”

“Can you just … can you let me ask the questions for now? I know you’re the front page reporter but I really need you to just …” He ran his hands through his neat hair, messing it up irreparably. “I just need you to please answer my questions.”

Eyes narrowed, Katherine pushed off the desk and approached him. She reached out and stilled his hands. “Billy, come on. Tell me what’s going on.”

He tried to calm himself but he couldn’t. He hadn’t stopped thinking about the small girl, Margaret, since he’d seen her. He’d thought about her as he set the article, as he handed copies to the newsies, as he headed to the office to watch the strike, and nearly every moment between then and now. “She looks just like me!” he told her, his hands flying up in the air. “It was like seeing a girl version of me. Or of Johnnie since he’s younger. Can’t you … didn’t you see it?”

Katherine froze and Bill could only bitterly think _“good”_ while he watched her sort through things in her head. The thing with Katherine was that you could practically see the gears in her brain turning as she worked through a problem. It was one of the things he liked best about her. The people who moved in their social circle were taught to show as little passion and expression as possible but Katherine had no ability to do that.

“I didn’t think your mother had a child after John until the twins,” she told him. “We were young but I think I would remember that.”

“I _know_ I would remember it. She didn’t have any kids between John and Randolph, Katherine. She _didn’t_.”

“So that would mean …”

Bill nodded. “I think maybe Ms. Davies is her mother,” he confided. “And my father is … her father.”

Katherine was quiet for a long time, pacing for a minute, staring out the window at Newsie Square, turning to study him. It could have been a couple minutes or a couple hours before she finally said, “Well, I guess it’s up to us to find out for sure, isn’t it?”

He felt himself relax and fall back against the wall. “So you believe me?”

Katherine shrugged and gave him a small smile. “I think we have enough to at least _investigate_ , don’t you?”

Wordlessly, he walked up to her and wrapped her in his arms. “Thank you,” he breathed. “Just … thank you.”

It wasn’t easy, especially since he couldn’t really help much. He collected some old family albums and snuck into his father’s and Ms. Davies’ rooms looking for diaries, but he didn’t find anything useful there. And, for obvious reasons, he couldn’t go down to look for anything in the archives of The Journal covering their relationship.

Katherine had much more luck at The Sun and The World.

“November 1883. Marion Davies returned to New York earlier this week and jumped back onto Broadway as if she’d never left,” Katherine read. “When asked where she’d been, Ms. Davies responded that her sister in Paris had been sick and, fearing the worst, she’d been there caring for her. “

“November 1883?” Bill asked as he propped his feet up on Katherine’s kitchen table. He rolled his eyes and dropped them to the floor when she swatted him with the newspaper. “That would make Margaret …”

“Sixteen,” Katherine confirmed. “Which is what we think she is. Race said she was seven or eight when he found her.”

He sat silently for a minute, once again thinking about how different their upbringings were. “Found her,” he repeated quietly. “Because she was living on the street.”

“You aren’t to blame, Bill. You need to stop dwelling on her past and start thinking about what he future could be.”

He snorted and stood, grabbing his hat. “You think there’s any chance even if we prove it, my father acknowledges her? You think he’s going to be thrilled he has a daughter and welcome her to the family with open arms? Do you think my mother will?” He shook his head and pulled on his coat. “What time are we meeting with Jack? Seven?”

“He’ll be here for supper. You’re welcome to join us.”

Bill shook his head. “No, thank you. I’m meeting with a new potential correspondent for dinner. Is seven still alright?”

“We’ll see you then,” she confirmed as she placed her hand on his chest. “But be prepared. You know Jack is very protective of his kids. He probably won’t be very open to what we have to say.”

With a slight scoff, Jack opened the door. “He’s just the warm up for Racetrack. If I can’t handle him, I’ll never handle the other kid.”

There were times when Bill hated being right. Jack ranted for a solid ten minutes after they presented him with their evidence. There were words that Bill had never heard _anyone_ say before, though Katherine mumbled something about spending too much time with the kids in Brooklyn since the strike, slung at him with such venom that it actually made him take a step back.

There were a couple of moments when he thought Jack might take a swing at him.

“No,” the newsboy said in finality. “I ain’t lettin’ you do this.”

“Jack,” Katherine cajoled, her hand on his shoulder, “shouldn’t this be Bill and Mouse’s choice?”

“She’s just a kid. A kid what’s had a pretty damn hard life up ta’ this point. And now youse guys want me ta’ tell her she could be Hearst’s kid? No way.”

“Actually, I’d like to tell her,” Bill said as he straightened up. “I’d like to meet her and have a chance to tell her myself what we found.” Katherine cleared her throat and he rolled his eyes. “What Katherine found.”

“It’s not fair to keep it from her, Jack. And, who knows? Maybe she already knows and she just didn’t want to bring it up. We’ll never know if we can’t talk to her and present the evidence.”

Jack shook his head again but he fell into one of the chairs at Katherine’s kitchen table and rubbed at his eyes as he did so. “This is just …”

“We know,” Katherine assured her. “And you know neither of us want to hurt her.”

“It ain’t my call,” he said finally. “Youse guys gotta talk ta’ Race before ya’ say anything to Peg.”

“Will you be there to back us up?” Katherine asked, though he knew that Jack knew it wasn’t really a question at all.

A long, loud sigh that turned into a groan escaped Jack’s lips before he ground out a very reluctant, “Yeah.”

And if Bill thought it was bad with Jack, the only word he could think of in relation to the meeting with Racetrack was catastrophic. The kid ranted and raved and paced and got in his face, curse words and made up words spilling from his lips so fast that Bill could barely keep up. And he mostly didn’t want to.

“Race, calm the hell down!” Jack finally yelled. They’d chosen to tell him in a public park in the hopes of him not getting aggressive but, unfortunately, the younger boy had no qualms about making a scene. “You needa take a breath and just listen.”

“I ain’t gotta do nothin’,” Race spat back, getting close enough to Jack that their chests bumped. “Youse is tryna tell me that Mouse is related to _him_ ,” he added, his right arm flying out to blindly point at Bill. “That Mouse’s been livin’ in the Lodge for _years_ when she coulda had a real good life and not known what it’s like ta’ go hungry! An’ you want me ta’ _calm down_?”

“I didn’t know,” Bill promised as he took a tentative step closer. “I had no idea until I saw her at The World. And even then … even then it was just a hunch. Now, though …”

“Now we think it’s likely,” Katherine finished for him. “Race, don’t you think she deserves to know?” she added quietly.

The tall boy stood there for a minute, his hands fiddling with his cigar. Bill didn’t know if he was thinking about their request or gathering the courage to beat him and Jack up before running all the way back to the Lodge, grabbing Margaret and making a break for it.

“Only if she wants to,” he finally spit out before backing away from them and disappearing into the crowd wandering through the park.

Now, nearly a month after he’d first seen her, Bill sat on a bench in Central Park while he waited for Margaret, Katherine, Jack and Racetrack to arrive. He’d told his father that he had an important meeting in order to get out of dinner with his family and he didn’t even feel bad for lying. He could barely look at the man these days. Conversely, he took every opportunity he could to study the features of Ms. Davies. Did Margaret have her chin? Her stature? Bill didn’t know but he wanted to.

He wanted to know everything about his maybe-sister.

It wasn’t much later than the agreed time when he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up and he looked to his right to see the group of four heading towards him. Racetrack’s posture was tense and he wondered if he might get punched at some point during this conversation. His eyes moved over to Margaret and he felt his heartbeat speed up. She looked even more like a Hearst than he remembered.

“Damn, I didn’t even notice it before,” Jack whispered to Katherine as they met, and Bill felt a little more confident in their research.

“Notice what?” Margaret asked.

Before Jack could answer, Bill stepped forward and extended his hand. “Hello. I’m Bill. Hearst.”

Margaret glanced over at Racetrack, who was pointedly looking in the other direction. After a beat, Margaret replied, “Mouse. Wait,” she added quickly. “Bill Hearst as in The Journal?”

“Yes, or, rather, his son. You said your name is Mouse?” he asked, knowing damn well what her name was. He just didn’t want to seem like he knew everything right off the bat.

“Margaret,” she amended. “But ev’rybody calls me Mouse. Katherine said you wanted to meet me. Why?”

Bill smiled and shook his head slightly. She was a no-nonsense girl, much like his friend, and he was sure he would be on the receiving end of her bluntness in the future. At least he hoped he was.

“Well,” he said nervously as he twisted his hat around in his hands. “I saw you a couple of weeks ago. At The World.” At her nod, he continued. “And it – what I mean to say is.” He barked out a nervous laugh, which was so unlike him. He tried to be composed even in the hardest of situations. This was new to him, though; this situation was beyond anything he had ever imagined.

“I believe you may be my sister,” Bill told her quickly and without ceremony. He wished he could take it back and find another way to say it, especially since Margaret was frozen, but the cat was out of the bag already.

There was complete silence for a moment, not one of the five of them making a noise, before Margaret laughed so loud a flock of pigeons took off from thirty yards away. “Yeah, sure! I’m the daughter of William Randolph Hearst. You hear that, Race?” she laughed as she nudged him. Her face fell when he didn’t laugh too and Bill felt it like a weight settling in his chest. “Race?”

She sounded confused and scared and he wished he could comfort her but he knew there was no way he could. She didn’t know him and didn’t trust him. Right now, he was just the weird rich guy claiming to be her brother.

Racetrack pulled the cigar from his lips and looked down at her. “I donno, Mouse. I mean, youse two look like ya’ could be twins almost.”

She looked to Jack and Katherine. “This is … youse guys is havin’ fun wi’ me, right?”

Jack silently looked away but Katherine stepped closer, her hand reaching out to clasp Margaret’s. “No, Margaret. We’re not having fun with you. We have … we have some pretty compelling evidence that you are his sister. Well, half-sister,” Katherine explained gently. “And it’s not just the eyes or the smile or the hair. It’s possible. I’d even go so far as to say it’s probable.” 

Bill watched silently, his hands worrying at his hat as he held it behind his back. He could tell she wasn’t taking it well, either not believing it to be true or not wanting it to be true. He had tried to prepare himself for the rejection he could sense was coming but all the rehearsals couldn’t have gotten him ready for the pain he felt at the fear he saw in Margaret’s eyes.

It was the same look David got when he did something wrong and Randolph wasn’t around to be blamed for it. It was the same look Georgie got when he thought he was going to have to take over the paper. It was something that seemed to run in the Hearst family.

“Peg …” Jack started, but she only shook her head and slowly backed away.

“This ain’t real,” she said so softly that Bill thought he read her lips instead of heard her words. “This … this ain’t real.” Racetrack laid a hand on her shoulder and she looked up at him, the panic clear in her eyes even in the dying light.

“It ain’t real,” she repeated once more before she grabbed up the fabric of her skirt and took off.

“Margaret!” he called as he started after her without a second thought. “Margaret, come back!”

He didn’t get very far before a hand grabbed him by the shoulder and stopped him in his tracks.

“Leave ‘er,” Racetrack said as he pulled himself up to his full height.

Bill watched as Jack sped past, trying to catch up but knowing that no one was going to catch her if she didn’t want to be caught. “Not going to stop him?”

“He ain’t gonna get ‘er either,” the boy said, his eyes moving to watch Jack as he slowed and finally came to a stop.

“Bill?” Katherine called out as she approached. “Are you okay?”

“Who cares?” Racetrack asked hotly. “He ain’t the one just took off on ‘is own at sundown.”

Bill had no idea why that was his breaking point but it was. “No, I’m not. But I’m the one who was stopped from chasing after her. I’m the one who took weeks of griping from you and Jack about telling her but felt so strongly about it that I risked _everything_ and told her anyway. Do you have any idea how dangerous this was for me and my family?”

“Oh, _your family_?” Race spat back, shoving Bill back. “What about what it did to _my family_? To _my_ sister?”

“Race, cool it, yeah? Let’s just talk,” Jack tried.

“She’s goddamn _terrified,_ Cowboy!” Race yelled, his arms shooting up in the air. “You seen that look. Youse seen it before. She didn’t wanna do this but she did anyway and now look what happened! She took off!”

“Do you know where she went?” Bill asked impatiently.

“If I did, I wouldn’t tell the likes of you. This is _over_. I’m gonna go find ‘er an’ try an’ get ‘er home.”

“You want I should go get some of the fellas to help?” Jack asked as he stepped away from Katherine’s side and stood in front of his friend. His hands went to Race’s shoulders and he ducked to meet the boy’s eyes. “We can have the whole Lodge out lookin’ for ‘er if ya want.”

Race shook his head. “I know where she’s goin’. I’m gonna let ‘er get there before I go. You should be gettin’ back.” He looked up at Katherine and then over to Bill. “This is over. She gave youse guys ‘er answer.”

“She was afraid. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to …”

“Bill, just drop it. For now,” Katherine added softly. “We can talk more about it later. You should get home.”

If there was one thing that Bill hated, it was being told what to do for his own good. He thought the right thing to do would be to scour the city until he found her and then calmly explain that he just wanted to get to know her. The look on Racetrack’s face told him that wouldn’t happen. Not tonight, at least.

“May I escort you home?” he asked Katherine in defeat.

She nodded and gave Jack a quick kiss before looping her arm through his. “Good luck, boys,” she told them. “She’ll be okay.”

Bill figured she added that last part partially for his sake, but he didn’t think it worked the way she wanted it to. He felt sick to his stomach, dizzy and heartbroken. “What made me think this was a good idea?” he asked Katherine softly as they walked down the path toward the exit that was nearest to her apartment.

“It was,” she promised in a voice stronger than he expected. “It was just a lot for her and she’s just a kid. Her whole world changed tonight, Billy. She’ll come around.”

He thought he heard her murmur _“I’ll make sure of it”_ but he didn’t comment, instead allowing his muscle memory to lead them towards Katharine’s place while his mind wandered to his sister, hoping she was okay.

And hoping she decided that she wanted to get to know him as badly as he wanted to get to know her.

 

 


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Mouse running and Race coming to terms with why he feels the way he does about Mouse and Bill.

Mouse was exactly where Race expected her to be when he found her. She’d messed her hair up, probably on purpose, and had twisted Katherine’s skirt into a way that probably felt like they were a pair of pants.

_Atta girl_ , he thought as he silently walked over and sat beside her. “Ya didn’t cross?”

Mouse looked over at him with a deep scowl but all he could do was grin and shove his cigar in his mouth. He’d been with Mouse for nearly ten years at this point, longer than he’d been without her, and he knew when to push and when to let her come to him. This was definitely the second. There was no way he wanted to make her run again.

“I don’t go there widdout you,” she answered, her words mumbled, showing she didn’t want to admit it. “Don’t want Spot ta’ think ya’ done somethin’ wrong.”

Chuckling, Race pulled the cigar from his mouth. “He ain’t gonna fight me.”

The cocky look that crossed Mouse’s face made the weight that was sitting in his chest lessen just a bit. “He would if I said he needed ta’.”

The confidence in her voice made the weight lessen even more. Mouse had always been strong, much stronger than him, and he should have known she would make it through this too. She was hurting, that much was obvious, but she wasn’t giving up. She hadn’t pulled back from him and decide to face everything alone.

She was still the girl who took over the Lodge’s bathroom within the first week.

_“Just cause I come from th’ street don’t mean I gonna let the bathroom smell like a alley.”_

_“Ain’t nothin’ wrong wi’ it, Mouse. Jus’ how we’s smell,” Race told her as he leaned against the door. “An’ if youse gonna convince them youse a boy …"_

_“No. Lemon. Everywhere.”_

“Ya’ wanna go see ‘im?” he asked as he looked up towards the path across the Brooklyn Bridge. “Somebody’s prolly on the lookout. They’s lettim know.”

Mouse sighed and followed his line of sight. He wished he could read her mind, or that the light was better so he could read her face. It was obvious she wasn’t sure what she wanted but a better view might clue him in on which way she was leaning.

“No,” she decided with a shake of her head. “Cause then I’d tell ‘im and he’d soak Hearst an’ then we’s have bigger problems.”

“I could soak ‘’im too,” Race replied, maybe a little immaturely. “But I wanted ta’ find you first.”

Without saying anything, Mouse just tipped to the side and rested her head on his shoulder. He hated that she was hurt over this whole mess. He’d told Jack and Katherine that it was a bad idea. He’d even gone to Davey to get him on his side.

_“Please, Davey. I needs backup. Kath is just runnin’ the whole show. She don’t wanna hear reason.”_

_“Race, it’s not my call. And I don’t even know what you need backup for.”_

_He thought about it for a second, knowing it wasn’t his secret to tell, but decided having someone on his side was more important than having Hearst mad at him. “Bill Hearst, the kid from The Journal? That helped at The World? He says he thinks he’s her brother.”_

_Davey stared at him for a little too long before sighing. “I think it’s up to her, pal. But, if it comes down to it, I got your back.”_

“You wanna go back to the Lodge?” he asked her quietly. “Jack prolly won’t show his face t’night.”

She didn’t answer for a long while and Race thought she might have fallen asleep. _Good_ , he thought to himself. He could deal with spending the night right here as long as he knew Mouse was safe. He could protect her from anything or anyone that came their way. He always could.

_“Well, well, well. Lookit what we have here. It’s a little girl.”_

_“I ain’t no little girl!”_

_Once the Delancey brothers started working at The World, things got rough on the kids. They were older, meaner and pretty much allowed to do whatever they wanted. Including pick fights._

_“Ya’ sure look like one.” He reached out and pulled her hair._

_“Back off, Oscar!” Race demanded as he pushed his body between Oscar and Mouse._

_“Protectin’ ya’_ girlfriend _?” Delancey sneered._

_Race responded with his fists, starting a brawl that saw a few black eyes and him walking with a limp for a week._

“I’m good here. You can go back though, if you wanna. I’m okay.”

“I ain’t goin nowheres without you,” he replied. “So we can just stays here t’night. Ain’t gonna be all that cold, accordin’ to the papes.”

She fell silent again and he kind of hated it. She had been really quiet when they’d met, aside from the lemon in the bathroom thing, and it showed him how scared she really was. 

It made him want to soak Jack so bad he wouldn’t be able to see Katherine on account of him having two swollen eyes. He should have put a stop to it before it even started. He should have socked Hearst in his stupid face, then socked Jack for good measure. He should have brought Davey out in the alley. He should have grabbed her hand and dragged her down some side street when they were heading to the park.

He should have done a million things different. The problem was, when he was thinking of what he could do so she didn’t meet Bill, he didn’t know if he didn’t want her to meet Hearst for her own good or his.

She was his family. Not that he would ever say it out loud, but she was the closest thing he had to a real family on account of them adopting each other when they were kids.

He had a mother, once, and he used to tell the fellas that he traded her in for Coronas. The truth was, she’d traded him in for a new husband and a new baby of their own. He’d been with the newsies only a few months before Mouse showed up. It took weeks for her to open up about where she’d come from and once she had, he made a promise to never let her feel like she wasn’t good enough again.

He knew what that felt like and he didn’t think any other kid, especially one like Mouse, should have to feel it.

“Why d’ya think he cares?”

Her voice startled him enough to allow the cigar to fall from his lips. “Huh?”

“Hearst. Why d’ya think he cares? About me maybe bein’ his sister an’ all. Ain’t nothin’ in it fer him.”

“Donno,” he answered honestly. “Parta me thinks it was Kath wantin’ somethin’ interestin’ to write about.” Mouse inhaled so sharply that she started a coughing fit. Eyes wide, he patted her back until her breathing returned to normal. “What the hell?”

“You thinks Jack’s lady’s gonna _write about it_?” she asked in a high pitched voice he hadn’t heard since Jack told them they were going on strike.

_Shit_. “Nah,” he said and he tried to sound cool about it. “Prolly jus’ wanted somethin’ ta’ do.”

“Ain’t Jack enough?”

He barked out a laugh so loud a few passing people turned to look at them. He knew he loved Mouse for a ton of reasons but that might be the best. She never censored herself around the people she loved and cared most about. 

He was pretty sure he was number one on her list. He was also pretty sure he hated Hearst so much because that guy could be her real family and she would start to love _him_ most.

The thought made Race want to throw up.

“Guess not. The shine prolly’s wearin’ off,” he added, and maybe he tried to put a little too much meaning behind it. _Youse an asshole tryna make her think Hearst’s gonna lose interest after a while._

“And he’s prolly still gonna leave anyways. Been talkin’ Sana-Fe so long he prolly won’t feel right ‘til he gets there.”

It surprised Race to hear her say that. “You really think Jack’s still gonna leave?” he asked as he looked down at the top of her head, which was resting on his shoulder again. “Cuz he says he’s stayin’.”

She lifted her free shoulder but didn’t respond. He wondered if Katherine would go with him if he did. Probably not; she definitely wanted the big city life. He didn’t think Jack would go alone though. He knew if _he_ was leaving, he’d take Mouse. Everybody needs a best friend to face the world with.

“You think he’d take Davey?”

“Davey ain’t about to leave his fam’ly and move to the west. Maybe Crutchie. Prolly less stairs an’ stuff out there.”

“He’d like that. Kid’s had a hard life here.” He paused. “You ever thinka leavin’?”

“New York? Nah. Ain’t never been nowhere else. The devil you know, y’know?” she answered. “Plus I don’t pictcha you ever leavin’.”

“Gonna stay with me forever, Mouse?” he grinned, his arm moving to wrap around her and tug her a little closer.

“S’what fam’ly does,” she answered with a yawn. “Real fam’ly don’t abandon you.”

He let out a slow breath and rubbed his hand up and down her arm. “Youse always been the smart one, yeah?” he grinned.

“Yeah,” she agreed and he was relieved to hear the smile in her tone. “Me an’ Mush.”

Race barked out a laugh and turned to press his lips against her hair. With a frown and a wrinkled nose, he pulled back. “The hell do you smell like?” 

Groaning, she turned and pressed her face against his chest. “Katherine got fancy soap an’ whatnot. This is all _her_ fault.”

“Ya’ better roll around in some dirt ‘er somethin’ b’fore we go back to the Lodge ta’morrow. Ain’t nobody gonna think there ain’t nothin’ wrong if ya’ show up smellin’ like …” He sniffed again. “Whatever the hell that is.”

She laughed and he felt the last of her tension ease away. _Thank god_. It wouldn’t be easy and tomorrow she would remember everything from tonight, but for now, it was just the two of them against the world and, really, he liked their odds.

\--

“Where the hell have you been?” Finch hissed at Race when he walked up to the line at the distribution window the next morning. “D’ya know where Jack an’ Mouse are?”

“Mouse went back ta’ the Lodge to get changed,” he answered as he leaned against the wall. “Jack prolly spent the night with Kath.”

Finch let out a low whistle. “Where’d you an’ Mouse spend the night?”

Race snorted and twiddled his cigar between his fingers. “This side’a the Brooklyn Bridge. She didn’t wanna cross but she didn’t wanna come back.”

“Where’d youse guys disappear to anyways? Davey wouldn’t give it up even though we’s pretty sure he knows.”

Race reached up and rubbed at the back of his neck. He wasn’t sure how much Mouse wanted him to tell but he knew Finch wouldn’t drop it until he got something out of his questioning. “Park,” he said. “Anything else, youse gotta ask Mouse. An’ not around the other fellas. Just … maybe just let her come ta’ you.” He pushed off the wall to move closer to the window. “If she wants.”

“You okay, pal?” Finch asked instead of continuing to ask about Mouse.

“A’course,” Race responded, his signature smile sliding back onto his face. “Never been better.”

“Sure,” Finch laughed. “You seen the headline on yer way in?”

Race rolled his eyes. “They’s gonna run us all outa business with these boring headlines. Shouldn’t they have someone up there smart enough ta’ know what sells?”

“You’d think Jack might be able to talk to Pulitzer about that, yeah?”

“Wrong Pultizer,” Race laughed. “He got the ear of Kath, not Joe.”

“But he got a job, a real job, inside The World, don’t he? Can’t he just go up and tell ‘em the headlines stink?” Finch asked.

“I donno! I only been in the cellar. Why don’t ya’ ask him?”

“Hey! Jack!” Race whipped around to see him walking through the gates. “How come you don’t go tell Pulitzer how boring the headlines is?” Finch asked loudly.

Jack approached and Race turned his head away, trying to avoid eye contact. He didn’t know if Jack was mad at him still, or if he even had been, but he didn’t want anything to come to head in front of the fellas.

“Ain’t my job to write headlines.”

“Should be,” Davey said with an easy grin as he and Les approached. “Only Jack could convince people there was a huge fire scaring thousands of people when it’s a trash fire and seagulls.”

“Heya, Dave, Les” Jack responded. Race felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned to see Jack looking at him. “Heya, Race.”

“Jack,” he responded with a slightly-forced grin. “Good night?”

Jack narrowed his eyes but then broke out in a smile. “Yeah, Kath’s couch is real comfortable. You?”

He shrugged. “Ain’t nothin’ like a warm couch but I did pretty good.”

The conversation died down and Finch wandered away to fool around with Albert and Elmer. Once he was out of earshot, Jack turned back to Race with a stern look. “Where did youse two go last night?”

“Don’t matter. We’re both okay. She’s just changin’ an’ then she’ll be here,” Race answered in a tone that was meant to tell Jack and David that he wasn’t going to be giving them any details about what happened the night before. 

“What happened last night?” Les asked, his head tilted to the side. “This have anything to do with Davey bein’ grumpy and all you guys leavin’?”

“Hey, Les, why don’t you go show Smalls and Specs the new marbles you got from Sarah?” Davey suggested. It was obvious he was trying to get his little brother out of there so he could find out what happened when they’d left him at Jacobi’s with the others, but Les didn’t catch on.

“Okay!” Les agreed without any fight. Race couldn’t help but wonder what life would have been like if Mouse had been like Les was, eager to be with the others and so upbeat.

He was pretty sure he wouldn’t change the way she was for anything in the world though. But with Hearst in the picture, he couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that he wouldn’t have _his_ Mouse for much longer, and it terrified him in a way nothing ever had before.

“So what happened?” Davey asked once it was just the three of them. “Did you go meet with Bill?”

“Sort of,” Jack mumbled as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “For about five minutes.”

“He freaked her out,” Race added. “He was just all _I’m your brother_ and didn’t even try to ease her into it!”

“Better ta’ be honest up front than drag it out!” Jack shot back hotly. “You don’t think it’s better to just say it?”

“We was still all just standin’ there, Jack! Nobody even had time ta’ get comfortable or whatnot.”

“Fellas, pipe down. The other guys are gonna start starin’.” Davey gripped them both by the arms and pulled them further from the crowd. “She okay?”

“We slept on the ground at the base of the Brooklyn Bridge last night,” Race told him. “Whadda’you think?" 

“Race …”

“Nah, no worries. Ain’t the first time we spent the night on the streets and won’t be the last, prolly. It’s just how it is when youse a street kid.”

“But you’re not a street kid anymore, Racer. Neither is Margaret. You’re newsies,” Davey said as if he thought that meant they were always safe, always warm.

“And when there’s a bad headline …” he started.

“Racetrack,” Jack interjected.

“No. He wants to act like he knows what it’s like? He don’t.” He turned to Davey, not really knowing why he was so angry with him. In fact, there was another dark-haired guy that Race would rather be yelling at but Hearst was probably in his comfortable office already, forgetting all about the girl whose life he just flipped upside down.

“You know we don’t stay at the Lodge fer free, right?” Davey didn’t move or respond. “Yeah, didn’t think so. We gotta pay. And if the headline’s bad or the weather’s bad? Sometimes we don’t got the money ta’ stay. You think there’s someplace for kids who ain’t got nowhere else ta’ go? There ain’t. So we sleep on the street. So no, last night wasn’t the first and won’t be the last. Remember that the next time you’re layin’ in bed complainin’ cause your little brother keeps stealin’ your blanket.”

He didn’t let Davey or Jack say anything before he stormed off. He was embarrassed and ashamed but he couldn’t stop and say that out loud. If he hurried, he could make it to Brooklyn before the wagons were empty. Spot never had a problem with him or Mouse selling over there before so he didn’t think there would be a problem today.

He was red-faced and angry when he walked past the Lodge and nearly ran straight into Mouse.

“Where’re you goin’?” she asked him. “What happened?”

“Nothin’,” he lied. “Don’t worry about it. I just gotta go.”

“Go where?” she asked, her voice high and panicked. “Where’re you goin’?”

Her tone froze him in place. He wished he didn’t care, didn’t love her so much. He could never lie to her and he wasn’t about to start now. “I let Davey have it,” he mumbled, unable to meet her eyes. “Shouldn’t’a but I did an’ now I’m goin’ ta’ Brooklyn ‘til … I donno.”

“Lemme get our stuff,” she said. “Our Brooklyn colors.”

“You don’t gotta …”

“Just wait, Fathead. I’ll be quick.”

She didn’t give him a chance to tell her no, that she didn’t do anything wrong and shouldn’t be turning tail and running across the bridge. His stubborn sister, so ready to stand by his side no matter what. It made him feel even worse for unloading on Davey. Of course, he was stubborn himself and he wasn’t about to go back to apologize. He’d make it up to Davey somehow but some other time.

“Let’s go,” Mouse said as she came out of the Lodge and tossed his sack at him. “I don’t wanna miss the chance to sell the morning edition.”

They didn’t talk much on the way over, though he did point to where they’d slept the night before and said, “We can’t sleep there no more on account a’ you droolin’ on me. I’m scarred fer life.”

Her laugh made him believe that even if things were crummy now, they would be better soon.

“Well lookit who it is,” a voice said once they made it a couple blocks into Brooklyn from the bridge, though not quite to the newspaper distribution site Spot used. “Two lost kids from Manhattan. Whatcha doin’ in Brooklyn, Racetrack?”

Feeling a smile spread across his lips, he turned to see Spot Conlon leaning against a wall, cigarette between his fingers and a smirk on his face. “Heard Brooklyn was lackin’ in good lookin’ newsies ta’ sell,” he shot back. “Thought me an’ Mouse would see what we could do about it.”

Spot turned his attention to Mouse and gave her a grin. “Lookin’ lovely as always,” he complimented. “Ain’t here cause Jack’s got into more trouble, are ya’?”

Mouse shook her head and gave the King of Brooklyn a smile that could make any man weak in the knees. “Nope.”

Spot was silent for a minute or so, eyes wandering between and over the two of them, before he raised his eyebrows and grinned. “Hey, Brooklyn! We got two more!”

A cheer went up and he laughed with Mouse as they headed down the street to where they’d be able to pick up their papers. Race thought this was probably the best idea he’d had in days. A little time away from Jack and Katherine and Hearst was all they needed to get back to normal.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Race and Mouse in Brooklyn with Spot plus Davey and Jack have a chat about how everything was handled with Mouse and Bill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mouse’s selling points are based on the Sept. 2 1899 edition of The World.

“Youse two look like yas’ from across th’ river. Need somethin’ ta’ wears?” Spot asked as they made their way down the street toward where the wagons were set up and kids were getting their morning editions.

“Nah,” Mouse said as she shook her head and held up her bag. “Jus’ someplace ta’ change m’shirt.”

She watched as Spot and Race looked around before Race signed and pointed to an alley. “Jus’ go down there. We’ll stay up front an’ make sure ain’t nobody comes down an’ gets a eyeful.”

“Less you wants some company,” Spot added with an eyebrow wiggle and a grin as he dropped his cigarette and crushed it into the ground. “Cause that could be arranged.”

“You wish, Conlon,” she shot back with a laugh. “Just make sure no creeps aside from youse two come down, okay?”

Mouse had no idea why it felt so good to be in Brooklyn. She thought it could be because Bill Hearst wasn’t there and he likely wouldn’t look for her there. Not that she expected him to look for her at all. She’d been horrible to him, not even giving him time to explain why he – wrongfully – thought that they were brother and sister. She knew there was no way. She might’ve been a girl but that didn’t mean that his ma and pop would give her up.

Though they only had boys so maybe she was wrong about that.

“You know I been changed for three years up here waitin’ on you!” Race called out from the mouth of the alley.

“Then you aged out an’ can fin’ly leave me th’ hell alone!” she shot back, a grin on her lips. “Hell, I aged out too. Where we workin’?”

“None of your sass!” her best friend called back with a laugh. “Less’go. They’s gonna be outa papes an’ then what’s we gon’ do?”

Shaking her head, Mouse quickly pulled on her faded red and blue shirt and stuffed the dark green and blue checked one she wore when selling in Manhattan back in her bag. “Keep yer pants on,” she told him as she reached the boys and slung her bag over her shoulder. “Less’go.”

“Ya look good in my colors, Mouse,” Spot said with a grin. “Might needa keep ya’ over here.”

“Hey!” Race objected. “What about me?”

Mouse didn’t miss the softening of Spot’s eyes at Race’s question. It was something none of them ever talked about but she noticed nonetheless. Spot Conlon was the toughest so-and-so any of them had ever met but when it came to the curly-haired kid who lived across the bridge, he definitely had a soft spot.

“You look dumb.”

Laughing, the three made their way to the wagons. Some of the guys they knew came over and greeted them briefly before breaking off and heading to their usual places to sell. Mouse watched them go, her eyes traveling through the area. It wasn’t anything like where they picked up The World over in Manhattan. There were regular folks milling around, nickels already out, waiting to grab the morning edition before hurrying off to their jobs.

Mouse didn’t like it much since it didn’t really afford the newsies time to figure out what their selling points would be.

Once she got her papers, she took a moment to go lean against the wall and read through the headline and some of the smaller stories. Little girl thief … no, that wouldn’t work for her. People would wonder if it was her trying to profit from her own deed. Croker? That would work. She filed it away for when she found a selling spot. Lady stopping a carriage because the horse was in distress? That was good too. Roosevelt and the Canal? Bingo.

Smiling, Mouse got up and joined Race and Spot where they were paging through their own papers. “Got anythin’ good, fellas?”

Spot narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously. “How many you find?”

Grinning, she shrugged. “I think I’ll be okay. Where ya’ want me?”

Spot led the way to a busy intersection and nodded. “Pick a corner an’ it’s yours. The sellin’s good enough here that we can each take one an’ not steal any business.”

“Brooklyn’s like heaven, ain’t it?” Race asked with a grin on his face. Shoving his cigar into his pocket, he nodded to the opposite corner. “I’ll take that one.”

Spot waited a minute, eyeing the remaining three, before nodding. “I’ll take the one opposite Racetrack.”

“I’ll just bet you will,” she said with a grin. Before the boys were even across the street, she held up one of her papers. “Croker found! Daring escape to meet Big Dems! The World exclusive! Thanks, lady.”

Mouse looked up and saw both Race and Spot staring at from the edge of the road. With a grin, she held up her next banner. “Concerned woman overpowers carriage driver to save horse!” Another nickel. She wiggled her fingers at the boys before turning her back to them and attacking the masses with her slightly-embellished headlines. If Jack Kelly was good for one thing, it was teaching her how to make sure she didn’t have any papes to eat – or sell back, now – at the end of the day.

She guessed it was mid-morning when Spot joined her and just a little while more before Race did. “Not fair,” he groaned as he leaned against the brick wall, shade finally shielding his reddening face. “Youse two stole all my customers.”

“Cause we’s better lookin’,” Spot told him with a grin as he angled himself beside Race, pulling a cigarette and match out of his pocket. “Ain’t that right, Mouse?”

“I know I am,” she responded, sliding down the wall to sit beside them. “They jus’ feels bad fer youse two.”

Race kicked out at her and she laughed as she scampered out of his reach. “Heya, Spot? Where can we get somethin’ cheap ta’ eat over here? We ain’t have time for breakfast an’ I donno about Mouse but I could put away some food.”

Spot thought for a second before nodding to himself and stubbing out his cigarette. “Less’jus’ go back to my place,” he suggested. “Jumper and Greenie ain’t gonna be back an’ I thinks we got some bread and maybe some fruit. Might not be still good though.”

“You ain’t livin’ in the lodge no more?” Race asked and Mouse could tell he was trying not to sound really interested. “You ain’t aged out yet, right?”

“Nah, I stay there most nights but sometimes I stay with the other fellas. We gots some new young kids movin’ in an’ I don’t wanna take’a bed I don’t need, y’know?”

Biting her lip, Mouse reached out and took Spot’s hand. She could feel Race’s eyes on her and she wanted to laugh at him but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. _Be more obvious_ , she thought to herself with a roll of her eyes. She might have to have a conversation with her pal about how he needed to mind his expressions when they were out in public. 

“You’re a good guy, Spot,” she told him and laughed out loud when he tugged his hand back and shoved it in his pocket with a muttered _Shaddup._

Being with Race and Spot in Brooklyn, walking down the street, no tension, no nerves, made her wonder if they shouldn’t just stay here. Sure, they’d have to find someplace to live but something told her that Spot wouldn’t let them spend a single night on the street. 

\--

 “How is she?” Katherine asked Jack as she sat between him and Mush at Jacobi’s. “I haven’t seen her. I made it a point to go to her usual …”

“She an’ Race took off,” Jack answered, cutting her off. “This mornin’. After …”

“Jack,” Davey interrupted from his other side, his voice low. He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter why.”

“Race shot his mouth off at Davey then ran like a punk,” Jack explained despite Davey’s stuttered protests. “I guess he just grabbed Peg and took her with him. Goddamn coward.”

Davey shook his head and leaned forward so he could see Katherine. “It wasn’t as bad as Jack’s making it sound. Race was very … emotional, we’ll say. I think he’s really shook up about the whole … situation.”

Nodding Katherine thanked Mr. Jacobi for her tea and then turned her attention back to Jack and Davey. “Bill is too. He won’t say it to me but I’m sure he and Darcy had a conversation about it. He can’t really talk to his brothers about it and I was there so …”

“You don’t think he’s gonna tell his brothers?” Jack asked in surprise. “She’s they’s sister too.”

“It’s not that easy,” Katherine told him sadly. “They’re not like him. Bill may be the one who’s going to take over The Journal but his brothers are still involved. And they’ll do whatever it takes to protect their father. I’m not sure Bill will ever tell them, whether Margaret decides to hear him out and get to know him or not.”

“What’re you guys whisperin’ about?” Les asked loudly, drawing the attention of everyone else. 

Typically, this would be where Race would interject something that would earn him some swats with the hats of the newsies sitting around him. When it was silent, Romeo asked, “Hey, where’s Race?”

“I ain’t seen ‘em all day,” Henry said. “Albert?”

“Nope,” was Albert’s answer.

Sighing, Jack shook his head. “He’s fine. He’s prolly just out sellin’ the evenin’ still.”

“I ain’t seen ‘em pickin’ up papes tonight,” Elmer said and JoJo agreed with a nod.

“Fellas, jus’ let it go fer now, yeah?” Jack suggested. He wanted nothing more than to tell them what was really going on but he knew the needed to keep the secret that he wished he didn’t know. 

Everything was a mess. Mouse and Race were gone, probably – hopefully - together, and he was feeling guilty about letting the meeting from the night before even happen. His stomach was in knots, wondering if his love for Katherine and his complete inability to say no to her had ruined part of their family. Sure, Racetrack was a hothead and typically spoke without thinking but he was loyal as hell and would do anything for any of the kids in the Lodge.

And Jack had just let Katherine sweet talk him and twist his arm into doing something that had hurt one of his own. Some leader he was.

“Hey, Jack?” Davey asked quietly from his side. “How about you come back to our place tonight? Sarah headed back home so we’ve got the room. And I know ma and pop’ll be happy to have you.”

It was a lifeline and he didn’t think he deserved it but he also didn’t want to deal with all the questions when the fellas realized Race and Mouse weren’t back yet. The kids tended to be nosier than a bunch of ladies with nothing better to do than swap rumors. He wondered how fantastic the story would be when he got in line for the papes the next morning.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Lemme just give Crutchie and Specs the news and I’ll meetcha outside.”

Davey settled his and Les’ bill and said goodbye to the fellas before heading outside with Les and Katherine. Jack took a breath and headed over to where his best friend was sitting with Tommy Boy and Buttons. “Hey, fellas. I’m headin’ ta’ Davey’s tonight. His pop wanted ta’ talk to me about somethin’ so youse guys are gonna be in charge of gettin’ the little ones all set fer bed and up in the mornin’. Let Specs know too, yeah?”

Crutchie looked at the others before focusing on Jack. “Ain’t Race comin’ back tonight, Jack?”

His best friend’s quiet concern made his gut twist and it felt physically painful to shake his head. “I don’t think so, Crutch. M’sorry.”

“What’s wrong wit’ ‘em?”

“I … I donno, pal. We can ask ‘em when he comes back, though.” The lie hurt but he shoved it aside. He looked up to see Davey peering in the window while they waited outside. “I’ll see ya’ t’morra. Mush an’ Finch know Davey’s place so jus’ send one’a them if youse guys needs me, okay?”

“Okay, Jack. See ya tomorrow.”

Rubbing at his chest, Jack stood and made his way outside. “Kid’s gonna kill me on accounta how much he cares about everyone.”

“Concern can be a good thing, Jack,” Katherine said as she placed a hand on his shoulder. “It just shows that they care.”

“Yeah, well, I had to lie an’ I hate lyin’ ta’ Crutchie.”

Davey put a hand on Les’ shoulder and gave him a shove in the direction of their house. “You comin’ back, Kath?”

Jack looked over at her and he honestly wasn’t sure if he wanted her to or not. He still loved her but if it wasn’t for her and her friend, they wouldn’t be in this mess right now. Plus, he was kinda worried that Sarah and Katherine would become friends and he and Davey would be screwed.

“I think I’ll head uptown and check on Bill, actually,” she said softly, a hand reaching out to rub his arm. She repeated the action with Davey and then smiled at Les. “I’ll come by after work tomorrow, okay?”

“We’ll see you then,” Davey said with a nod and a smile before nudging Les further down the sidewalk, obviously giving them a minute alone.

“Are you okay?” she asked him softly and he didn’t know if it would be better to lie or tell her the truth.

“This is a mess,” he decided on. “I got two kids off who knows where, you’ve gotta spend time with Bill tryna see if he’s gonna do anything stupid about Peg, I’m lyin’ ta’ my kids … it’s just …”

“Yeah,” Katherine agreed on a sigh. “But we’ll figure it out. Do you have any idea where they could have gone?”

Scratching his cheek, Jack nodded. “Yeah. If they went where I thinks they did, we ain’t getting’ to ‘em til’ they decide ta’ come back.” Involuntarily, he turned to face the east, his eyes squinting, before looking back at Katherine. “You need me to walk ya’ ta’ catch a trolley?”

“I’m fine,” she assured him before leaning in and giving him a kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

For a moment, he let the stress and nerves fade away as he pulled her in for another kiss, less chaste and enough to elicit some knocks on the window of Jacobi’s and quite a few thumbs up from the newsies. “Shaddup,” he called at them with a grin before looking back up to Katherine. “See ya’ tamorrow, Ace.”

He waited until she made it down to a crowd waiting for the next trolley to come by before jogging to catch up with Davey, who was trailing behind Les.

“Where d’you think they went?” Davey asked as soon as he caught up and they were walking side by side.

“Brooklyn,” Jack answered without hesitation. “Race an’ Spot’ve been close for years. I donno how or why but whenever things get ta’ be too much here, he runs over there. I can count on one hand the number a’ times he ain’t take Mouse wit’ ‘em. If I was a bettin’ man, I’d bet they was over there.”

“And we’re just gonna …?”

“Wait ‘em out? Yeah,” he answered, though he didn’t want to. “They’ll come back eventually. Once Race is over it.” 

“What if he don’t get over it?” Davey asked, hands shoved in his pockets and eyes set on the ground. “What if they just … don’t come back?”

Jack turned to survey Davey. The kid had his head tilted down and his shoulders hunched, like he’d done something wrong. It made him wonder how much Race had told their friend about what was going on with Peg and Bill Hearst. “They will. They always do.”

“It’s different this time though, ain’t it?” Davey asked, obviously not willing to let it drop and just trust him. “This ain’t just some dumb fight with one’a the fellas. He ain’t even worried about lashin’ out at me. This is about Margaret and …” Here, Davey lowered his voice and it was obvious he was in the know and Les wasn’t. “Bill. Ain’t it?”

“How much do you know?” Jack asked because he didn’t want to give anything away that Davey wasn’t already part of.

“Race came to me and asked me to back him up,” he answered with a shrug. “I guess he thought he was in the right and you guys were in the wrong and … I don’t know. He figured logic would help him out. I told him it was up to her but, if anyone asked my opinion, I would take up his side." 

“You really think we shoulda kept it from her?” he asked in shock. Davey was always the guy who said you should tell the truth.

_“My father taught us not to lie.”_

_“Yeah? Mine taught me not to starve.”_

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I think maybe …” Davey sighed. “I think it could have been handled different. Maybe let Race tell her himself.”

“He wouldn’a. Davey, he wouldn’a told ‘er. He was so against it …” He let out a long breath. “And maybe Race had it right. You didn’t see the look on her face, Dave. She was _terrified_. It was like … I donno that I ever seen ‘er like that. And in Kath’s clothes, she looked even smalla’, even younga’. An’ she just … she took off. I’m just glad Race was with us.”

“Because he’s the only one who knew where she would go,” Davey said, finishing his thought for him. “You still think you guys did the right thing?”

“Hell, Dave, I donno. She got a right, y’know? I would wanna know if it was me.”

“Me too, Jack. But maybe … maybe you guys shoulda told her and let her make the decision if she wanted to meet him or not.”

“I know,” he agreed, pulling off his hat and running his hand through his hair. “I know. I been thinkin’ about that. Kath an’ Bill were just so … they jus’ wanted Bill ta’ be able ta’ tell ‘er, y’know? Have ‘er hear it from him.” 

“That’s understandable,” Davey agreed but Jack knew that he still thought they’d gone about it the wrong way. “But you led her into the unknown and dropped a huge … I donno … this might’ve been too big to bring her into blind.”

His pal wasn’t wrong and the fact shot another twist through Jack’s stomach. None of them had been logical about it. He thought maybe it would have been better to let Davey break the news to her on account of him being the most level-headed, but they didn’t know each other all too good yet. Davey was still kinda the new kid.

But Race wouldn’t have made it any better and Jack knew he wouldn’t have been able to do it the right way either.

“If they’s not back by the weekend, I’ll go ta’ Brooklyn an’ try’n convince ‘em to come home.”

“I’ll go with you,” Davey volunteered. “I want Race to know there’s no hard feelings. And I think Spot might kinda like me,” he added with a grin.

Jack couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, you could say that. But I wouldn’t say it ta’ Spot.”


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill and Darcy catch up, Mouse and Spot have a heart-to-heart and Mouse and Race head back to Manhattan.

Bill didn’t want to admit how much it had hurt when Mouse – Margaret – ran away from him. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried to prepare for it but he quickly found out that no matter how many times he ran through the scenario, he would never fully be able to capture the stabbing pain that went through his heart when his sister took off.

He could understand it, of course. There was a part of him that was positive that he would have done the same thing if their roles had been reversed. Mouse hadn’t had an easy life from what he could gather, and being told she could have grown up differently had to have been jarring.

That didn’t mean that Bill wasn’t upset that she hadn’t even given him a chance.

Three days later, she still hadn’t come back. Katherine had been by a couple of times to check on him but his sister was nowhere to be found. It was driving him slowly insane, which Darcy picked up on when they met at the Union Club the Friday evening following his disastrous meeting with Katherine, Jack, Racetrack and Mouse.

“What’s going on with you?” Darcy asked as he sipped on his gin. “You’ve been distant all week.”

“I met her,” he answered after a moment, knocking back his whiskey and raising his glass for another. “Margaret.”

Darcy tilted his head and stared at his friend. “Who’s Margaret? I thought you were still sniffing around Lillian.”

“What? No. I -.” But he froze. Was it really possible that he hadn’t told his _best friend_ that he had a sister?

Bill thought back on all of the conversations he had with Katherine since they printed the Banner, thought back on Jack and Racetrack and Margaret. He ran through his memories again and again and every time, he couldn’t find one with Darcy in it the same time Margaret’s name came up.

“Bill? Bill!”

Shaking his head, he looked back up at Darcy. “I can’t believe I haven’t told you yet,” he said lowly. “I’m sorry.”

“Told me what? Did something happen with Lillian?” Darcy asked in confusion. “Because you were pretty hung up on her the last time I checked.”

“No, I mean yes. I’m still interested in Lillian. Not that she’s any closer to giving me the time of day.” Bill rolled his eyes at himself before shaking his head and continuing. “But that’s not what I need to tell you. It’s about Margaret.”

“I still don’t know who that is,” Darcy said as he slowly removed his glasses and cleaned them with his handkerchief.

“I’m getting there.” He knew he sounded like an excited kid but he couldn’t help himself. Despite how everything happened, he still had a sister and he was about to tell his best friend about her. But first … “But you have to swear not to tell a soul. Katherine knows but once I tell you what’s going on, you’ll know why.”

Bill could tell that he held Darcy’s full attention. It was hard to do that inside the Union Club, especially for them, since there were usually plenty of other men who wanted a moment with the Heirs Apparent for The Tribune and The Journal. Tonight, they were blissfully being left alone, hidden away in a corner to block out the rest of the established businessmen and wannabe up-and-comers.

“Okay,” he started, scooting his chair closer. “It happened when we were helping the newsboys by printing their papers in Mr. Pulitzer’s basement. Do you remember that there were two girls there? Three, if you count Katherine.” Darcy nodded and Bill smiled. “So there was one, small with dark hair. She worked on the press with you, trying to get it to work. So when I was getting ready to head out to set the article, I walked into her. The small girl with the dark hair.”

“And it was love at first sight,” Darcy deadpanned, sipping his gin again.

“No,” Bill denied, fighting the urge to reach out and punch his friend on the arm. “It was … recognition at first sight.”

“Recogni – what in the world are you talking about? Did you fall down and hit your head or something?”

“Ha-ha,” he drawled, “but no. I looked down at her and it was like looking into a mirror. Or looking at Johnnie, just with him being a girl and having really dark hair.”

Darcy was silent, his finger slowly tracing around the rim of his glass, and Bill knew that meant he was thinking. His best friend didn’t talk through things out loud like Katherine did a lot and he did sometimes. Darcy internalized everything until he was able to phrase out what he wanted to say in a precise and exact way. It was usually refreshing, because it meant Darcy rarely stuttered through an explanation.

Now, however, it was infuriating.

“Are you going to say _anything_?” he prodded, taking the drink that the waiter finally brought over to him.

Darcy shot him a scathing look before returning back to his head. Bill rolled his eyes but kept quiet, this time sipping on his drink instead of downing it. He didn’t feel the need to be drunk for this conversation, and part of him hoped that he would miraculously walk out of the club and straight into Mouse, standing there waiting for him and willing to give him more time to explain.

It was a long shot and something that would and could never happen, but he was going to stay sober just in case.

“So you think she’s your sister?”

Bill looked up to see Darcy studying him. There was something in his friend’s eyes that made him choose his next words very carefully. “Katherine and I – mostly Katherine, she’d say – did a lot of research. We started looking into it a few days after I saw her for the first time.” He cleared his throat. “You know my father keeps a mistress.”

Darcy nodded. “Marion Davies, the actress,” he acknowledged. “She lives with you know, does she not?”

“She does,” Bill nodded. “They’ve been together for years. Except for when she disappeared about sixteen years ago. Maybe seventeen.”

“Where did she go?”

Bill grinned a little. “Apparently, she went to Paris to care for her near-death sister. Her sister is alive and well,” he added before Darcy could ask the question. “Moved back to New York a couple of years after Ms. Davies did.”

“Did she have a child with her?” Darcy asked, sitting closer to the edge of his seat.

“I don’t know,” Bill answered. “She must have. Because Mouse – uh, Margaret – grew up here. That’s what Katherine said Racetrack told her. I think she said he found her when she was young. Seven, maybe eight.”

“Where did he find her?” his friend asked in confusion.

Bill couldn’t blame Darcy for not following. He lived the same privileged life as all of the other people in their social circle. Sure, his father hadn’t founded The Trib but he owned it now, had owned it since Horace Greeley died, and Darcy wasn’t born when that happened. None of them had come close to knowing what the newsies went through.

“On the streets.”

Darcy stared at him for a long moment before downing the rest of his gin and holding his glass up for a refill. “I think I’m going to need another drink for the rest of this story.”

\--

“You looks like ya’ thinkin’ pretty hard there, kid.”

Mouse looked up and smiled at Spot. It was Friday night and the Brooklyn kids were holding a bonfire, joking around and trying to keep warm on a rapidly cooling night. “Could ya’ smell smoke?”

Laughing, Spot sat beside her, turning to look across the river like she was. “I get the feelin’ you ain’t gonna be stayin’ fer’ good.”

Sighing, Mouse leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder. She loved Brooklyn, she really did, but Manhattan was her home. Brooklyn had Spot and Willie and, right now, Race, but Manhattan had Jack and Crutchie and Finch and Smalls. Manhattan had JoJo and Buttons.

Manhattan had Davey.

She pushed the thought away, frowning at herself. _Focus on Spot and try not to have such a weird thought again_ , she told herself.

“I think it’s time ta’ go home,” she told him honestly. “I don’t know if Racer’s gonna come wi’ me though. He likes it here.” Licking her lips, she pulled her head from Spot’s shoulder and waited for him to look over at her. “You knows why, right?”

Spot stared at her for a long minute before turning back to the water. “Kid’s gonna get us both killed,” he muttered. “Anybody else thinkin’ what you are?”

“Donno,” she answered with a shrug. “Ain’t nobody talks about it. I just know him and I knows you.” She was quiet for a beat, then two. She turned and looked over her shoulder before returning to her previous position. “Jus’ my opinion but I ain’t see nothin’ wrong wi’ it. S’long as youse two ain’t stupid about it.”

“You ever known Racetrack ta’ not be stupid?”

Mouse couldn’t help it; she had to laugh at him. It was so true. Race was the kind of fella who jumped into everything head first, damn the consequences.

“No,” she answered honestly. “But maybe he could with this. Seein’ as how it’s somethin’ important.”

Spot shrugged and she wished she could see his face. He’d never been much of a talker, preferring to let his reputation speak for itself. Kids feared Brooklyn and Spot and that was the way he liked it.

His silence made her want to share something personal with him, just so maybe he wouldn’t shut down or so he wouldn’t think she had something up on him. Spot was big about being even.

“I think I got a brother.”

“You _think_?” Spot asked with a snort. “Ain’t Racer your brother?”

“A blood one,” she answered. “Race is my family, yeah, but … this fella. He said he’s my brother and …” Mouse stopped and took a deep breath. She hadn’t admitted this out loud to anyone, not even Race. It was terrifying but she thought maybe Spot would be the best person to tell. He was no-nonsense and most of the time pretended he didn’t even care about things. Maybe he wouldn’t think anything of her confession.

“I’m pretty sure he’s right.”

Spot nodded so she knew he heard what she said and that he was waiting for her to go on.

“It’s Bill Hearst.”

Her companion was still silent and she wished that he’d had some kind of reaction. It could have been a laugh or a snort or a loud denial, anything but his complete silence. It was starting to freak her out and make her jittery.

It could have been five minutes or an hour before Spot finally spoke. “Well ain’t that somethin’.”

“That’s all you gotta say?” she asked as she pulled away from him, an incredulous look on her face. “ _Ain’t that somethin’_? Seriously, Conlon?”

“Well I donno what you want me ta’ say, Mouse! Youse just found out that yer’ goddamn rich! And yer’ sittin’ here …”

“I ain’t rich,” she shot back hotly. “ _He’s_ rich. His _family’s_ rich. I’m still a newsie. Always gonna be a newsie, least til’ I age out.”

“Hey, hey. Calm down,” he told her strongly and she immediately listened. When Spot Conlon gave an order, even if you weren’t one of his boys, you listened. “You jus’ found out that you’re a goddamn _Hearst_ and yer’ sittin’ here complainin’.”

“Maybe I don’t wanna’be’a Hearst,” Mouse responded. “Maybe I like what I got.”

“Ain’t nobody likes this life, kid,” Spot said as he stood up and held out a hand for her. She took it and he pulled her up. “An’ I say if you gotta chance ta’ get out, you go.”

“I don’t,” she told him, and she was a little surprised to hear sadness in her voice. She linked their fingers together as they slowly headed back to where the rest of the Brooklyn kids and Race were. “I kinda, y’know …”

“Took off like a scared kid?”

“Yeah,” she answered. “An’, I donno. I don’t think Race wants me ta’ see Bill.”

“’Course he don’t,” Spot scoffed. “Why would’e? Hearst could be yer’ real family. Where does that leave him?”

Neither said anything more as they continued their walk back to the group. Mouse was inside her own head, replaying Spot’s words over and over again. Did Race really think she would abandon him for Bill? That didn’t make any sense. She’d known Race for almost ten years and Bill for maybe ten minutes. Total.

It hurt her to think that he was worried about something so dumb. They were each other’s person, for lack of a better term. Where there was Race, there was Mouse, and vice versa. She came to Brooklyn for him and she knew when she was ready to go home, he would leave for her. They were two halves of the same whole.

When they reached the group, she wordlessly dropped Spot’s hand and bee-lined for Race, her arms wrapping around him from behind and her cheek resting in the middle of his back. “I love you,” she murmured against him. She didn’t know if he heard her or felt her but his hands covered hers and she knew she got her point across.

“You wanna wait til’ mornin’ to head back?” he asked her.

It was so amazing when they were on the same page. It happened most of the time, but since the whole Hearst situation started, she hadn’t ever felt more disconnected from him. It was good to feel like things were getting back to normal.

“Yeah,” she answered as she let go and moved to stand beside him. “I’m tired and we don’t need any freaks jumpin’ out at us and makin’ us fall off the bridge or somethin’.”

Race laughed and looped his arm around her shoulders. “Then let’s grab a crap beer and enjoy our last night in Brooklyn.”

Mouse looked over to see Spot leaning against the wall, his eyes on them, and she smiled. “How’s about you take a crap beer and go over there,” she suggested with a nod, “and I’ll go bed down fer’ the night. I wanna get over there in time for the mornin’ pape.”

Race looked at her for a minute before turning his head to see Spot. She could tell he was torn and she was going to push him to go but then Spot lit a cigarette and disappeared around a dark corner. Frowning, Mouse thought that was a deterrent. But Race just smiled and headed in that direction.

_Oh. It was an invitation_.

\--

The next morning, Race met Mouse outside the Brooklyn lodging house. She gave him a knowing look that he ignored for all of ten seconds before smiling. “Shuddup.”

She laughed and hugged him before taking his hand. “You sure yer’ ready to head back? If ya’ needs some more time …”

“Nah,” he answered, though he couldn’t stop himself from looking over his shoulder to see Spot in the shadows, “it’s time ta’ go. I gotta talk ta’ Davey.”

“Mhm,” she hummed, “you sure do.”

Race rolled his eyes, glad she wasn’t looking at him. She was protective of everyone, himself included, but there was something about Davey that got her hackles up even further. Maybe it was because he was still new-ish and he definitely didn’t live the lives that the other newsies had. Some of the fellas had folks, or at least one parent, but Davey wouldn’t have been there with them outside some tough luck with his father getting hurt at work. Davey wasn’t a newsie. Maybe Mouse just wanted to make sure he didn’t die or something.

“Hey, what’s that all about?” he asked. He figured if they had a long walk, he was gonna get something out of her.

“What’s what?” she asked as she waved to a couple of the kids who were starting to trickle down the street towards where they met the wagons.

“You and Davey.”

“Ain’t nothin’ with me and Davey,” she scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You was just real mean to ‘im. Not that I know what ya’ said.”

He took her at her word. For now. “It don’t matter. I just gotta tell ‘em I’m sorry cause I didn’t mean it.”

He really _did_ feel bad for mouthing off at Davey. He’d been frustrated and scared and Davey just really had no idea what it was like to live the lives he and Mouse did. The kid tried but he would never know.

At least he hoped he never did.

“What did you and Spot talk about last night?” Mouse asked and he considered boxing her upside the ear.

“Didn’t,” he answered shortly, hoping she would take it for what it was worth and keep her damn mouth shut.

It wasn’t unusual for two newsies to blow off some steam together. Girls tended to be harder to get to because most of them either lived with their folks or in a boarding house for just girls. Or with nuns.

The nuns were the worst.

But him and Spot had been close forever, though neither of them every really talked about it. They were friends and they sometimes had to get out some specific aggressions or urges. When they’d gotten to be teenagers, he’d thought about talking to Mouse about it, like maybe him and her could blow off some steam or whatever, but it just seemed weird and wrong. He didn’t like her like that and he figured girls tended to be more guarded about physical stuff.

Spot was never guarded when it came to him.

He didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but he counted it as a good thing. He could be himself with Spot and Spot could be himself with Race. They didn’t talk much, choosing instead to spend their time together speaking in actions. They were never stupid enough to so much as look at each other in any way but a normal way when they were in public, but god, sometimes Race wanted to. He supposed he had been lately since Mouse finally noticed. It’d been the only secret he’d ever kept from her.

He got this feeling in his stomach whenever someone so much as mentioned Brooklyn. It was his second home and where he planned on going as soon as he aged out of the lodging house. He figured he and Spot would find a place with some other guys, bunk up and get on with their lives.

“You needa be careful,” Mouse said, pulling him out of his mind. “About all that. I don’t think nobody saw you an’ him leave together last night but … ya’ just gotta be mindful.”

“Yeah,” he replied as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “I know.”

They were quiet for a moment before she spoke again. “You know I don’t care, right? About what you do wi’ … that it don’t bother me?”

“Yeah,” he answered again. “I know. Bothers other people though.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “But not everybody. I don’t think some’a the fellas in Manhattan would have anythin’ ta’ say about it.”

“Oh?” he asked, interested. “Who you got dirt on?”

Mouse just smiled her shitty little grin that could get her whatever she wanted and he shoved her hard. She laughed and it made him smile. Things got so screwed up with Bill and him and Jack and it felt so good to have something normal back.

They chatted with the kid working the bridge for a few minutes before finally stepping on. He felt a sense of loss in the pit of his stomach but when he looked down to Mouse, confident and smiling, he knew it was the right move to go back. He promised her he wouldn’t leave Manhattan until he aged out, maybe even wait until she did, so staying in Brooklyn without her wasn’t really an option.

That didn’t stop him from looking over his shoulder and wishing he wasn’t leaving.

“What the hell?”

Frowning, he looked down to Mouse and then followed her line of sight. There, in the middle of the bridge, leaning over the edge, were Jack, Davey and Les. He barked out a laugh and shook his head. “Looks like even if we wasn’t ready, they was ready fer’ us.”

He brought his fingers to his lips and let out a loud whistle. It drew the attention of everyone in the area, including their friends from Manhattan. Grinning, he nodded to Mouse and they headed to meet the others. 

\--

“Hiya, Mouse,” Les said with a smile as he spit in his hand and held it out to her.

Davey was able to spit shake with the best of them these days, now much less squeamish and worried about disease, but the gusto with which his brother did it made him wrinkle his nose.

Margaret chuckled and complied with his brother’s request with a “Heya, Les” before looking up at him. “Hiya, Davey. Jack.”

“What brings youse guys this way?” Race asked, a smirk on his face. “Ya miss me?”

“Nope. Missed Mouse though,” Jack retorted with a grin. “Youse guys headed home?”

“Yup,” Margaret answered. “Time to come back from vacation.”

“Brooklyn’s _vacation_ to you?” Les asked, eyes wide. “Did you see Spot while you was there?”

“Did we ever!” Margaret exclaimed. “Lemme tell ya’ a story about somethin’ that happened while we was in Brooklyn.”

Davey smiled as she took his brother’s hand and shared a look with Jack. The three of them started walking back, leaving him alone with Race. She must have know the two of them needed to talk.

He didn’t think he was nervous, exactly, but he wasn’t sure what was going to come of this conversation. Race had been so hurt and furious the last time he’d seen his friend, he didn’t know what to expect. Had Brooklyn taken the edge off?

“I’m sorry.”

Apparently, it had.

“It’s okay. Are you feeling better?”

“No, Davey. Stop. Ya’ gotta let me …” He let out a breath and all Davey wanted to do was ease the tension. It was obvious Race felt bad; Davey really didn’t need the words. “I wasn’t really mad atcha the other day. I know there’s a lot you don’t know about what we gone through. I shouldn’a been like that though. So I’m sorry.”

Davey offered him a smile and put a hand on his shoulder. “Thanks, Race. It’s really okay.”

Race nodded and they started to walk, satisfied that they would be able to have a conversation without the other three overhearing, but not be so far behind that it caused them to stop or become suspicious. “So … have you talked to Margaret about the situation?”

Race pulled a cigar out of nowhere and popped it in his mouth. It was an excuse not to talk about Bill Hearst and Davey knew it, but he wasn’t going to let his friend get away with it. “You’re going to have to eventually.”

“I know,” Race mumbled, his hands in his pockets, probably to keep himself from removing the cigar and answering any questions.

“He hasn’t come by but I wouldn’t be surprised if he sends Kath at some point. Things didn’t go well, I know, but from what I’ve gathered, he’s serious about this. He wants to get to know her. And I think …”

Here, he paused. There were so many things he wanted to say but he worried none of them would be right and any number of them could set Race off again. It wasn’t going to be easy to convince him to talk to Margaret, especially since he was so stubborn, but he knew he had to try.

“I think maybe she’s not going to do that without your blessing.”

Race was still quiet and it made Davey want to give him a good shove or sock him in the arm. Just as he was about to, Race removed the cigar and nodded. “Spot said the same thing. Basically Mouse is scared I ain’t gonna love her no more if she does meet with the guy.”

“Is that true?”

“I hope not,” Race answered quietly before he shoved the cigar back in his mouth, his hands in his pockets, and walked a little quicker so he could catch up with the others. It wasn’t exactly what Davey was hoping for but it was better than what he expected.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not quite sure how I feel about this chapter but it was time to get something out. Let me know what you thought. :) Thanks!


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mouse decides to see Bill again.

It took three days for him to work up the nerve to talk to Mouse about Bill. When they were in Brooklyn, it was like they both put it out of their mind. At least he had. Mouse wasn’t ever really one to talk about her feelings so he didn’t really know if she was thinking about it or not. He’d considered trying to get information from Spot but got distracted by something a little more pressing. And fun.

He really didn’t want to bring Bill back up; things had been going pretty well since they got back from across the bridge. But Davey had “gently” prodded him to talk to Mouse about it.

_“You need to tell her it’s okay for her to see him,” Davey said as they walked down 8 th Street. “She won’t unless you do.”_

_“How d’ya know?” he asked, raising up the paper and calling out a headline about a milk truck tipping over and closing down a road. “She say somethin’?”_

_“She_ ever _say somethin’?” Davey asked and Race could tell he was rolling his eyes._

_At least it wasn’t just him she wasn’t willing to get all emotional and crap with._

_“What makes ya’ think she wants ta’ see ‘em?”_

_Davey was silent, hands shoved in his pockets as they walked past a couple of kids from The Trib. It wasn’t like they really expected to be noticed but he and Davey had been pretty centered in that picture from the strike so it happened from time to time. Neither of them wanted any rumors out about a newsie and a Hearst; that would have been a disaster._

_Once they were in the clear again, Davey answered. “She depends on you. She looks ta’ you for … for guidance. So if you say it’s okay …”_

_“She tell ya’ this?” Race asked, grumbling._

_“No,” Davey repeated and Race could tell he was trying not to get angry. “But I can tell. And I think you can too.”_

_“I’ll think on it,” he replied. “Best I can give ya’.”_

It ate at him for three days, making him lose sleep and repeat headlines from the day before and let Albert steal food from his plate. The boys all looked at him weird and when Katherine was there, she actually felt his head for fever, but he just shrugged them all off and kept to himself.

He could admit, if only to himself, and maybe Davey, that he was afraid to lose her. Sure, he figured once he aged out and moved away they might not see each other as often but he wasn’t ready for that yet. A large part of him hoped that she wasn’t yet either.

“Hey.”

Mouse looked up from the paper she was reading by the candlelight and smiled. “There ya’ are. Been wonderin’ when you was gonna get back. Ya’ go ta’ the races?”

“Nah,” he answered as he sat down. “Just walkin’. Thinkin’.”

“I thought I smelled smoke,” she grinned, reaching over and swiping at his arm. He feigned hurt where she struck him but the pain was really in his stomach and heart. “What’s wrong?”

Leave it to Mouse to know when something’s up with him. They’d known each other long enough at this point, but he wasn’t as good as reading her as she was at figuring him out. It made him mad sometimes because she was really the only one who could beat him at cards. He figured he taught her too well.

“Jus’ been thinkin’ about, y’know. _Him_.”

“God him or Hearst him?” she asked and he couldn’t help but scoff. Of course she knew exactly what he was thinking about.

“Hearst,” he answered. “About how … about how maybe ya’ should give’em a chance. Ta’ explain an’all.”

“What’s there ta’ explain? His pop and some actress … y’know … and neither wanted me. Pretty easy ta’ explain if ya’ ask me.”

Race’s heart broke for her because, for the first time, he saw how much it was weighing on her. Lots of kids ran away or had their folks die or go to jail and that’s why they were newsies. Most of the younger ones probably didn’t even remember what having folks was like. Mouse had been through it, though. Group homes, foster homes and then running away. And now she found out her parents were probably two of the richest people in the city and they just didn’t want her.

“Maybe they couldn’t. I mean, Hearst and his lady only been livin’ t’gether fa’ a little while, right? Maybe they couldn’t risk it,” he tried to reason, his stomach churning.

“What, now ya’ want me ta’ be okay wi’ this?” she asked and Race could see the fire in her eyes. “B’fore …”

“I was wrong,” he choked out, the words tasting worse than the biscuits the nuns handed out. “I was … I donno.”

“Jealous?” she asked and he could see the little grin on her face. She was still worked up but he’d calmed her down a bit with his confession. “You don’t needa’ be.”

“But you’se got a brother now,” he replied, hating how soft and unsure his voice sounded. He hated being vulnerable, especially when it was about something he had no control over. It made him feel weak.

“Already got one,” she said with a shrug. “He’s pretty thick a lota’ the time but I still love ‘em. Ain’t nothin’ or no one gonna change that.”

They sat quietly for a minute, letting her words sink it. It didn’t make him feel completely better but the knot in his stomach lessened and his heart didn’t hurt as much. She never said things like that, anything that could be considered real emotional, and because she did this time, he had to believe her.

“Always knew ya’ loved me,” he said with a grin, which earned him another swat, and even though he knew this meant she was gonna go meet Hearst again, he could feel in his bones that she was telling the truth; he knew she wouldn’t love him any less no matter what. 

\--

Katherine was sitting in Jacobi’s when she saw Mouse walk in, Race trailing behind her. They were both smiling and put on a big show of bowing when the already-assembled kids cheered for their arrival, but Katherine’s keen eye noticed that there was something behind their smiles. They were nervous about something and the thought sent a little thrill through her.

Davey had told her the day before that he’d talked to Race and everything was in his hands at this point. She’d been skeptical and badgered him about going to Mouse herself, but he’d calmly shut her down, telling her that Race and Mouse had to work it out between them and that he wasn’t going to do anything more until he got a cue from either of them.

“Katherine?”

She looked up to see Mouse standing in front of her, shifting side to side, Racetrack behind her with a hand on her shoulder. She didn’t know which one looked closer to losing their breakfast but she wanted to get the looks off their faces as quickly as possible. “Yes?”

“Can I – uh. Can we talk?”

“Of course. Outside?” she suggested as she stood up.

“S’long as ya’ don’t drag me away like last time,” Mouse muttered, still shifting uncomfortably but now looking up at her instead of down at the floor.

“Promise,” she said as she crossed her finger over her heart. “Coming, Race?” she asked, sweeping past them.

She held her head up and tried to hide her smile as she walked out of the restaurant and to the familiar alley they seemed to meet in when they needed privacy. It was another minute or two before Racetrack and Mouse slowly crept into the alley after her.

Neither of them said anything but Katherine knew it wouldn’t help to push them. In fact, she was pretty certain if she tried, they would clam up and not even tell her what they wanted to in the first place.

“I wanna see ‘em.”

It was so quiet that Katherine thought she might have been hearing things. Her heart started pounding and she had to press her hands against the bricks to stop herself from approaching the younger girl. “You want to see him?” she asked, hoping she’d heard correctly.

“Hearst,” Mouse added, her voice a little stronger. “I wanna see ‘em.” She paused. “Please.”

Katherine looked up to Race, who kept his eyes on Mouse. She could tell the kid was nervous but he was trying to be supportive and she felt her heart go out to him. She had no idea how he was feeling or how she would feel if she was in his position. It made her want to reach out and pull him into a hug. Instead, she pushed her hands into her pockets and nodded, trying not to make a big deal out of it so she didn’t scare Mouse off. “Okay. I’ll reach out to him. When would you like me to set it up for?”

Mouse shrugged and scuffed her shoe on the ground. “I donno. Maybe Saturday? I donno when he works an’ stuff.”

"He’d make the time whenever you wanted him to,” Katherine assured her. “Would it be best for the afternoon or after the evening edition?”

Mouse rubbed the back of her neck and looked up to Race. He smiled down at her and nodded. “How’s about we do it after? That way we ain’t rushin’ back,” he suggested.

She nodded and looked to Katherine. “After supper?”

Katherine nodded with a smile. “Do you want Bill to come down here?”

“No,” Mouse replied immediately. “I don’t – I don’t want the other fellas ta’ …”

“Okay,” Katherine assured her. “We can meet somewhere else.” She paused. “The Journal? Everyone will be gone.”

“Don’t wanna give him home turf,” Race muttered but looked down at Mouse. “We can go there if ya wanna though.”

“Can we do th’ park again?” she asked. “I promise I ain’t gonna run this time.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged,” Katherine agreed. “For Saturday night. I’ll let you know the next time I come by. For now, how about some dinner? I think I saw some stew on the menu tonight.”

“I’m in!” Race hollered and took off for the front door, probably glad to be out of the conversation. Katherine knew it couldn’t have been easy for him.

“Thank you,” Mouse said softly. “Just … uh, jus’ lemme know if he don’t wanna see me now, I guess.”

“He will,” Katherine reassured her with a smile. She wrapped an arm around Mouse’s shoulder and led her back towards the entrance to Jacobi’s. “I have no doubt.”

“Sure,” the younger girl responded, though Katherine knew it wasn’t as confident as she’d tried to make it.

\--

“Mr. Hearst? Miss Pulitzer is here to see you.”

Bill looked up from the copy he’d been reviewing for the evening edition to see his secretary in the doorway. He gave her a smile and couldn’t help but notice the blush that stained her cheeks when he did. “You can let her in, Miss Seward.”

The woman curtsied and retreated and Bill couldn’t keep the grin from his face as Katherine walked in.

“You’re horrible,” she told him as she closed his door. “Stop charming all of your secretaries or your father’s going to hire an old man. Then where will you be?”

“Two floors down with the typists,” he retorted with a laugh. “What brings you here?”

“I come with word from lower Manhattan,” she said, her voice barely containing excitement. “From Mouse.”

He was on his feet and buttoning his jacket in an instant. “You seem encouraged by whatever news you have,” he said, unable to keep the hope from his voice. “Should I be encouraged too?”

“So long as you haven’t already set a date for Saturday night,” she told him, her eyes wandering to the door and the pretty blonde on the other side before turning back to him. “Because she said she wants to see you.”

“Are you serious?” he asked, eyes and smile wide. “She really – she actually wants to see me?”

“She does,” Katherine assured him. “She and Race came to me yesterday and they brought it up. She said she wants to see you. Even said please,” she added with a grin.

Bill couldn’t stop the delighted laugh that burst out of him as he wrapped his friend in an exuberant hug. It was what he’d been hoping for since their first meeting had gone incredibly, horribly wrong. It had only been about a week but it felt like months to him. To know his sister was out there, hating him, not believing him, had weighed on him like few other things ever had.

Talking to Darcy had helped but he knew nothing would take away the sting aside from seeing her again. He’d thought about trading a bum for his clothes and going down to the lodging house but he thought that might make things worse. As hard as it had been, he knew that he would have to wait her out. This had to be Mouse’s choice.

Bill still felt bad about not allowing her friends to tell her who he was or why they wanted her to meet him. Or, at least why Katherine wanted her to meet him.

This time, though, it was her choice. She’d sought out Katherine to set something up with him and honestly, he had no idea how he was going to make it through the rest of the week without jumping out of his skin from nerves and anticipation.

“She wants to meet at the park again,” Katherine told him. “And … this time, I think I’m going to let her wear whatever she wants. I think she was really uncomfortable last time. Too much too soon.”

Bill nodded. “That’s fine,” he agreed. “Gown, rags, whatever she wants.” He wiped his hands on his slacks and took a deep breath, smiling again. “She really said she wants to see me?”

“Without me even bringing it up,” she confirmed. “I don’t know what started it but she and Race walked in and right over to me. I was a little surprised.” She paused, obviously considering something, before she added, “I asked if she wanted you to come to her but she shot that down pretty quick. Also offered for her to come here but that was a no go too.” Katherine reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. “This is progress though. Just keep your expectations low. I have no idea what she plans on saying to you or anything like that and I’m not about to try to ask. I’m still excited she felt comfortable coming to me and asking for help instead of just finding your house and breaking in to see you on her own terms.” His face must have registered shock because she laughed and patted him on the shoulder. “Yes, she could do that. And probably get out without anyone being the wiser. She’s crafty.”

“Guess she has to be,” he answered after a moment. “Living the life she lives.”

They were interrupted by a knock on the door and Miss Seward poking her head back in to remind him of his lunch meeting with his father and brothers. “Duty calls,” he said with a hand on Katherine’s back. “Will you be coming on Saturday night?”

Katherine shrugged and headed for the door. “I’ll see if she wants me to. If not, it’ll probably be just the two of you and Race.”

Bill nodded thoughtfully and grabbed his hat. “I guess we’ll see come Saturday.”

\--

“Ya’ look fine,” Race said for the fifteenth time as they headed up towards Central Park. “If ya’ wanted ta’ look fancy ya’ shoulda asked Kath.”

“I don’t wanna look fancy,” Mouse shot back, smoothing her hands over her pants. “I jus’ don’t wanna look like I’m about’ta’ rob ‘em or somethin’. Gonna be couples an’ stuff in the park an’ they’s gonna see us.”

Mouse had made sure to wash up her pants and shirt as best she could for tonight. She wasn’t about to wear another skirt, it just wasn’t her style, but she didn’t want to look like a ragamuffin, like Katherine had initially described them when she first walked into Jacobi’s. She’d taken a warm bath and wrangled her hair into something that couldn’t be considered a nest, then put on her clean clothes and her only pair of shoes.

She was definitely more comfortable than the last time she’d headed up to the park to meet Bill Hearst. The first time she’d had no idea what was happening but she wasn’t blind this time. She knew who she was looking for and what to expect. Mostly.

“Ya’ think he’s gonna be mad that I came wi’ ya’?” Race asked her curiously.

“I think he ain’t gotta choice an’ if he wants ta’ meet wi’ me, I’m gonna have m’ brother wi’ me.”

He didn’t say anything but Mouse could tell that Race was smiling.

They automatically slowed down as the park came into view. Mouse’s stomach turned with nerves and uncertainty. She hated the part of her that wanted to run. She hated even more that Race would let her and wouldn’t judge her for it. Katherine would, though, and it would probably ruin any chance she had left to get to know the man who claimed to be her brother.

“There he is,” she said a few minutes later, stopping several yards away. “He looks nervous.”

“Well, ya’ did pull a runner on ‘em last time,” Race said, unhelpfully in her opinion. She shot him a look and he shrugged like he didn’t say anything wrong. “I ain’t lyin’.”

She rolled her eyes and rubbed her hands on her pants again before taking another step forward. “Bill?” she called, her heart racing as his head shot up followed by him quickly getting to his feet. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Bill replied, eyes wide as he approached. “Racetrack,” he said with a nod.

She couldn’t see Race but she felt something inside of her tug happily when she saw his hand extend towards Bill. It impressed her a little that he hadn’t spit in it first. Baby steps, she supposed.

“I – uh.” Nervously, she shifted from foot to foot. “Can we walk? ‘Stead’a sittin’?”

“Of course,” Bill agreed, holding his hand out for her to lead the way.

Mouse glanced over at Race and then Bill before she started walking, a boy on each side of her. She felt the urge to reach out and take Race’s hand but she pushed it away. She didn’t need the anchor and she didn’t want to make Bill feel bad.

“I’m sorry,” she said after a moment. “About last time. I just …”

“It’s okay,” Bill interrupted, causing her to look up at him. “I’m not … I don’t blame you for that. It was a lot and you hadn’t know what to expect.”

Mouse nodded and they walked a little further. “Why?”

She rolled her eyes at herself but didn’t clarify. She wanted to know everything, including why he cared. Mouse just wasn’t sure she would be able to ask him something like that without her voice cracking and she didn’t want to be that vulnerable, especially with someone she didn’t know.

“Why don’t I blame you?”

“Why do you want to know me?” she corrected. She felt Race’s hand brush against hers and it gave her a boost of confidence. “Cuz, I mean, no offense, but you don’t seem like the kinda fella who chases down a street rat on account’a her maybe bein’ a relation.”

“No offense taken. I hope you won’t take offense when I say that you don’t know what … kinda fella … I am. We’ve only met twice,” Bill reminded her.

His statement gave her pause. It was true. Mouse had made assumptions based on other people in power. No way old man Pulitzer would have done what Bill did. Katherine may have but Mouse had figured she was an exception to the rule. Maybe Bill was as well.

“Fair. So, tell me why.”

Bill rolled his shoulders and kept his eyes focused ahead of himself when he spoke. “I’ve never had a sister before,” he told her. “We’re all boys, my brothers and I. I can’t say I’ve always _wanted_ one, but I can say I never _didn’t_ want one. I didn’t know about you. If I had, I would have come looking for you sooner. It wasn’t until I saw you that night in the cellar of The World that I even knew you existed. But as soon as I saw you, it was like … I can’t describe it.”

“Folks say we look alike,” she said instead of responding to him. “Guess we must look like yer’ dad.”

Bill nodded. “Makes it easier for me to be Junior,” he laughed. “I have an older brother but I’m William Junior. Guess my mother figured I would look more like him. And you … right now, you look like my little brother Johnnie. You’re probably right around the same age.” He shook his head. “I don’t think I can forgive my father for this. For taking you away from us.”

“Maybe he didn’t know,” she offered weakly, not even believing herself. “Or, uh. He couldn’t exactly, uh … y’know. Ya’ got a mother an’ she ain’t mine. She prolly wouldn’t’a wanted me anyways.”

Race’s hand brushed hers again and she took it, deciding she _did_ need the anchor. He was a good friend, a great brother, and she was glad he came with her. She didn’t think she would be able to speak to Bill the way she was without him by her side.

“You’re probably right. I don’t know if she knew. I hope she didn’t,” he added softly. “She’s such a great lady … I’d hate to think she was okay to just …”

“Toss me away? Or, I guess, pretend I don’t exist.”

Bill winced and she felt bad for him but she didn’t say anything further. No matter how bad it hurt, it was the truth. Either Mrs. Hearst didn’t know she existed, which was doubtful, or she wanted to pretend she didn’t. Honestly, Mouse didn’t know which was worse.

“Why do they call you Mouse?” Bill asked with genuine curiosity.

“Race gave me the name,” she answered, nudging her best friend.

“When I found ‘er, I tol’ her she hadda be quiet on accounta’ she’s a girl and only boys was allowed in lodgin’ then. Took a couplea’ years ‘fore Kloppman figured it out,” Race explained. “I told the fellas she was quiet as a mouse an’ it kinda stuck.”

“It was smart,” she added with a smile. “Though the fellas figured out I was a girl pretty quick, even then. Finch was first, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Race laughed. “Screamed more like a girl an’ you did when it happened.”

“How?” Bill asked, a smile lighting up his face. Mouse absently hoped her smile looked like that because it was nice.

“I was takin’ a bath an’ usually I could get the door jammed shut. He musta really hada’ pee cuz he come bustin’ through an’ I didn’t have m’ towel on yet an’ …”

“I thought it was _her_ screamin’!” Race cackled, pausing to bend over and try to catch his breath through his laughter. “Mouse got wrapped up right quick but the other fellas came runnin’ in an’ …”

“An’ Finch just points at me an’ screams ‘ _girl_!’. I thought they was gonna kick me out but they didn’t. Race calmed ‘em down and life wen’ on. Finch still checks on where I am ‘fore he goes to the bathroom though.”

Bill laughed loudly and shook his head. “It sounds like you have some pretty good stories.”

“Life ain’t all bad,” she told him. “I gotta family. They’s rowdy and smelly but, y’know.” She smiled and casually bumped her shoulder with his. “So hows about you tell me a story now. About _yer’_ family.”

Bill grinned silently at her for a beat before launching into a story about his father’s office, an inkwell and a little brother convinced it was colored seltzer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know where this bout of fluff came from but I'm not gonna say I don't kinda love it. Thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Finch's birthday and Mouse decides it's time for Bill to meet the family.

It became a regular outing. Once a week, Margaret would send word through Katherine that she wanted to meet, and he would rearrange anything he had to in order to make time. Maybe it was slightly pathetic but he wanted to know his sister more than he’d ever wanted just about anything in his life.

Bill was close with his brothers, at least as much as he could be. They weren’t best friends but they got along well enough.

The thing was, he’d never felt the connection he felt with Margaret with any of them.

After just six weeks of meeting, he considered Margaret to be his closest family member. He would rather travel to Central Park or the pier or just about anywhere to spend an hour chatting with her than going to a family dinner with his parents, brothers and, on occasion, Miss Davies. 

“Billy?”

Bill finished shrugging on his jacket and turned to see his mother standing on the stairs, a confused and slightly concerned look on her face. Frowning, he stepped closer.   “What is it?”

“Where are you going? It’s getting late. Nearly dinnertime. Gertie is making the lamb stew you enjoyed so much last time.”

“Oh, ah …” He glanced at the door and then back to his mother. “I’m sorry. I, uh, I have dinner plans with someone.”

“Who?” she asked, stepping closer. “Is it Darcy? Feel free to have him come here. You know he’s always welcome.”

Bill knew it would have been easy to agree but say Darcy had called ahead and reserved them a table at the Club to discuss business matters, but he couldn’t do it. Instead, he chose to give as much of the truth as he could without being completely honest. “It’s a girl,” he told his mother, hoping she didn’t notice the uncertainty in his voice. It wasn’t a lie, exactly, but it was far from what his mother would expect that to mean.

“A girl?” she asked, her voice delighted, confirming his thought. “Is that where you’ve been sneaking off to? To see a girl?”

“Yes?” It sounded like a question to his own ears but the happy laugh and clap his mother gave convinced him she thought he was going to meet someone he was courting.

 _Gross_. 

“Oh, Billy, you _must_ bring her by soon. I promise I won’t invite all of your brothers. It’s been so very long since you’ve brought a young lady over. Promise you’ll bring her soon?”

Bill felt his stomach turn. He wanted next to nothing more than to introduce Margaret to his mother, but he knew he couldn’t. It would be such a disaster and would rip what was left of his family apart. Either she knew about his sister and hadn’t been willing to raise her or she had no idea and it would destroy her.

“I’ll talk to her about it,” he lied. “But I really have to go. I don’t want to keep her waiting.”

“Of course, of course,” his mother said, kissing him on the cheek and then making a shooing motion with her hands. “Make sure you have her home at a respectable time.”

“I will,” he agreed before smiling once more and heading out, his insides twisted in knots.

As he walked, Bill let himself imagine what life could be like if Margaret was an openly accepted part of their family. He would have someone he actually liked to hide with at family and society functions. A smile crossed his lips as he imagined Margaret in a big dress, tugging at her skirts and frowning while she hid from everyone who wanted to know her story.

Really, all he wanted was to be able to spend time with her with the people who were important to him. Mostly, he wanted to introduce her to Darcy. Properly this time.

“You lost?” a voice asked, pulling him from his head. It was sarcastic and amused and he knew exactly who it was.

“Must be,” he agreed, stopping when he was face to face with Margaret. “What’s a girl like you doin’ in a place like this?” She snorted and hit him lightly on the arm before nodding towards lower Manhattan. “Park’s the other way.”

“Thanks, Map Man,” she said as she rolled her eyes. “Figured we could do somethin’ a little differ’nt this time.”

“Such as?” Bill asked as he shoved his hands into his pockets and followed her down 7th Avenue.

“Well, ‘s Finch’s birthday an’ we all saved sos we could have a good dinner at Jacobi’s. Thought maybe ya’ might wanna come. If not, we could go back up and I could just meet ‘em later.”

“No! No, I definitely … are you sure?”

Margaret shrugged and shoved her hands into her pants pockets. “Yeah. I mean, you’ve already met’em all, sorta. And yer’ not, y’know, jus’ tryna mess me around ‘er anything. So, uh. Yeah?”

Bill smiled and felt a little extra spring in his step. “Sounds like fun. Your friends are good guys. From what I know, of course.”

“Ya’ ain’t met Crutchie yet. If ya’ think the fellas ya’ met before are nice, wait til ya’ meet him. He’s like …” She trailed off and Bill couldn’t help but smile. This was just about as animated as he’d ever seen his sister and he could admit that he liked it. He was pretty sure it meant she’d accepted him.

“He’s like …?”

“Donno. Walkin’ sunshine.”

Bill laughed and gave her a little shove – the most tactile she’d let him get so far – before shaking his head. “Walking sunshine. Okay. We’ll see.”

“He is!” she defended and aimed a shove of her own at him. “I think you’ll like ‘em all,” she added. “I don’t know who all you remember. Jack and Race fer’ sure, but do you remember anya’ the others?”

“The tall one and the short one,” Bill answered after a minute. “I don’t –“

He was cut off when Margaret barked out a laugh before pausing and bracing herself against the brick siding of a grocery store, laughing so hard her whole body shook. He had no idea what he’d said that was so funny but his heart leapt, watching her so open and unburdened by her past or present.

“The – the tall – oh my god.” 

“I don’t remember their names,” he said defensively, though he was smiling the whole time. “We probably weren’t even introduced.”

“Davey and Spot,” she snorted. “And I wouldn’t even _think_ of Spot as the short one when you’re around him. If he comes over at all.”

“Okay,” Bill said easily. “You’re just gonna have to introduce me to everyone then.”

“I will,” Margaret agreed. “Just don’t … most fellas don’t go by their given names so just … go with it, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I can do that.”

\--

When Mouse walked in the door, everyone let up the customary embarrassing cheer to signal they were waiting for the late person – even if they weren’t. It died out, however, when Bill Hearst walked in behind her.

Davey held his breath as the boys looked at each other in confusion. Race and Jack weren’t confused but they were definitely surprised. He was a mixture of both.

Davey knew that Mouse and Bill were still meeting about once per week, but he had no idea that she was brining him to Finch’s birthday dinner. It was bold of her, and it made him prouder than he had any right to feel. He wanted her to be happy and to accept that Bill was her brother, though he hadn’t been sure that she would be able to do both at the same time. Judging by the smile on her face, she was.

The newsboys, along with a little help from Miss Medda, were able to get the whole deli slash restaurant to themselves. They didn’t have to worry about other customers looking down their noses when they ordered water and whatever was cheapest on the menu. Finch was fond of stretching his money as far as he could so the fellas definitely weren’t going to order anything that would make him uncomfortable. Not that they were letting him pay for anything anyway.

“Hey!” Finch called out. “Who’s the suit?”

Mouse rolled her eyes and Davey couldn’t help but laugh.

“Happy Birthday,” she called back instead, nodding to Bill and leading him over to where Davey was sitting with Jack, Crutchie and Race. “Heya, fellas.”

“Heya, Peg,” Jack responded, his voice slow and confused. “Heya, Bill.”

“Hello,” Bill said, and Davey thought his eyes shifted and lingered on him for a second longer than it should have. “Hi. I’m Bill Hearst. 

“I know,” Davey responded with a smile, his hand extending. “Nice to see you again.”

“Bill, that’s Davey. And that’s Crutchie.”

After Bill shook his hand, he watched as the future publishing guru extended his own hand to Crutchie. “Hi. I don’t think we’ve met before.”

“Bill helped us out when we was doin’ the Banner,” Jack told Crutchie, a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Couldn’t’a done it wi’out ‘em.”

Crutchie smiled widely and took Bill’s hand, shaking it enthusiastically. “Gee, that’s great! You’se guys was a huge help! If it wasn’t for ya’ paper, I would pro’lly still be in the Refuge. I can’t thank ya’ enough for everything ya’ done.”

Davey had to hide his smile when Bill looked overwhelmed at Crutchie’s enthusiasm. It was a lot to take sometimes, but Davey figured anyone who could handle Race or Jack had to be able to handle the most positive, save for maybe Mush, of their friends.

“Uh, no problem,” Bill said, glancing between them. “I was happy to help. I was actually pretty envious that I couldn’t join before.”

“Aww, tha’s okay,” Crutchie countered. “You was there when it mattered.” 

“So, what brings you down our way?” Davey asked, his eyes slowly moving between Mouse and Bill. “Ya’ come down for Finch’s birthday?”

“Figured it was time,” Margaret said with a shrug before grabbing Race’s water and taking a gulp. “I mean, he’s family too, right?”

The comment caught him off guard and he hoped his gasp wasn’t too loud. No one looked over at him, which was good, but they _did_ look over at Race. Davey followed the group, looking at their most outspoken friend. He was fiddling with his cigar and frowning at his mostly empty water glass. “Yeah, sure, then drink _his_ water, ya’ mooch!”

Mouse frowned at him but Davey could tell how pleased she was by his reaction to her comment. He wasn’t aware of everything that happened in their meetings, but he supposed things were going well enough that Race became comfortable with Bill’s presence, both in general and in Mouse’s life.

“Ya’ gonna sit or ya’ gonna stand around all night?” Jack asked, kicking out a chair and looking at it pointedly. “Food should be out soon.”

“We didn’t order anything,” Bill said, though he held out a chair for his sister to sit.

Davey and Race both snorted when she casually moved to another seat. His heart sped up, however, when she chose the one beside him. When she shifted to pull her right leg under her, a position he thought had to be uncomfortable but she favored, she knocked into him and then reached out a hand, which landed on his shoulder, to steady them both.

“Sorry,” she apologized quickly before turning back to Hearst. “I told ‘em to get us something. I figured if ya’ decided not ta’ come, someone else would just eat it.” 

“Oh,” Bill answered with a nod. “What, uh … what are we eating?”

“I figured two beef sandwiches. It’s roast beef,” Davey added, “and pretty good. Les, that’s my brother, he’s down there. Anyway, he leans towards the sausage but I didn’t know if you had any reasons not to eat it, religious or whatever, so I thought the beef was easiest.”

Margaret reached out and put a hand over his, a small smile on her lips. “Thanks, Davey. That’s good. Right, Bill?”

Davey couldn’t help but notice that her hand stayed where it was until Bill answered. “Yeah,” he said with a nod. “That’s good.”

\--

“Really,” Finch said a few minutes after Mouse and the new guy sat down, “who’s that guy?”

Mush looked up and studied Mouse for a minute before turning back to him. “He helped when we made our pape. Don’t know ‘is name.”

“Yeah, sure, okay,” Finch agreed, “but what’s he doin’ at my birthday?”

He didn’t mind when there were new kids brought around, didn’t even care that it was at his birthday party, but he didn’t know _why_ and he wanted to. Deciding that it was his birthday and he was owed an answer, he stood and made his way over to the table where Jack, Race, Mouse, Crutchie, Davey and the new guy were sitting.

He flopped into the seat Jack was probably saving for Katherine, who hadn’t shown up yet, and grinned. “Hiya, fellas. What’s good?”

“Well, well, well. Lookit who’d decided to come socialize with us mere children,” Mouse said and he had to grin at her. That girl was a spitfire and he loved her all the better for it. He would miss her when he aged out next year. Then again, she would probably age out at the same time, though she looked a bit younger so she might be able to stay. 

“Lookin’ good, Mouse. Are you my birthday present?” 

She rolled her eyes and Race started laughing, but he noticed both Davey and the new kid tense up. Since it was his birthday, he decided to see if he could rile one of them up enough to snap at him. Call it a gift to himself.

“I mean, it would pro’lly be the best gift I ever got while I was here,” he added, sending what he hoped was a charming and suave grin her way. He saw Davey’s hand twitch out of the corner of his eye and placed his bets on his buddy losing it first.

“Too bad I don’t date newsies,” she said, a fake high society accent evident in her voice. He noticed Davey twitch again.

“That why you brought this fella? He yer’ new guy? Gotta say, didn’t suspect that to be yer’ type.”

“Hey now,” the new guy started but Mouse put a hand on his arm and he shut up quick.

“That’s disgusting.”

“Hey now!” New Guy repeated, this time a little more indignant. It made him laugh a little louder than he probably should have. 

“It _is_ ,” she insisted. “No offense or anythin’, but it _is_. I know we ain’t known each other fereva’ or nothin’ but you’re my _brother_ and that ain’t right.” 

 _Hold on_. “Brother?”

Mouse looked at him, confused, before she turned pink and ducked her head. He turned to look at Jack, who looked away with a half smirk. Then Finch turned his attention to Race, who was trying really hard to keep a straight face, but he could see his body shaking with silent laughter. When he looked to Crutchie, thank goodness the kid looked as confused as he did. At least he wasn’t the only one who wasn’t in on the joke.

“Brother,” Mouse nodded. “Well, not all the way brother. What’s it called?” she asked as she looked at New Guy with her brows furrowed.

“Half brother,” New Guy answered. “Same father, different mother.”

He turned to look at Davey, who he thought would look at skeptical as he was. Davey, however, was being incredibly unhelpful and just sort of smiling at Mouse. 

 _The hell?_  

“Okay. So. Lemme get this right. You’se two’s related?” he asked, pointing between Mouse and the new guy. “How come we ain’t known about it before now?”

“We just found out,” Mouse shrugged. “Coupla’ months now. We’s been figurin’ it all out.”

“It’s not easy,” the new guy said with a shrug, shifting in his seat. “With who I am and who she is …” 

“Who _are_ you?” Finch asked, tired of not knowing. He would probably call him New Guy anyway, least until he got his own nickname like everyone else, but he figured having a name made it a little easier to accept him.

“Bill,” New Guy answered. He looked over at Mouse – _the hell?_ – and she nodded – _really, though, what the hell?_ – and he added, “Hearst. Bill Hearst.”

He couldn’t help it. He started laughing so loudly that he drew the attention of just about everyone in the deli. Crutchie joined him after a second and then Les and Elmer right after, laughing because he and Crutchie were. “Ya’ ain’t Bill Hearst,” he snorted. “Bill Hearst ain’t gonna come down here for m’ birthday.”

“To be honest, I came because Margaret invited me,” New Guy told him. “But I assure you, I am who I say I am.”

Turning quickly, he looked at Davey, basically begging him with his eyes to be told that this was some sort of elaborate birthday joke or something. He liked pranks as much as the next fella. But Davey pursed his lips and shook his head just the tiniest bit. 

“Holy crap.”

Unable to hold it in anymore, Race started cackling. His face was red, his cigar forgotten on the table as he hooted and shook with laughter. It was annoying but it was obvious that Race knew the truth and found the whole thing hilarious. And he supposed if Race, of all people, could accept it, he could too.

“Shut up, idiot,” Mouse said as she stuck her fingers in her water and flicked it over at her laughing best friend. “Y’ain’t helpin’.”

Race wheezed something out but no one could understand him, though Davey _did_ roll his eyes.

“Hate you. Bill’s my favorite now. He’s not a donkey like _you_.”

That only made Race laugh harder, his head falling to the table as he shook with laughter and gasping breaths. It was contagious and Finch started laughing a second later, which led to everyone at the table joining in.

“What’s everybody laughin’ at?” Les called out after a few minutes. “Share the joke!”

“Race ain’t Mouse’s only brother no more,” Finch called out to the room. “And he ain’t her favorite either.”

There was a burst of noise, all the newsies shouting questions at the same time. Mouse shot him a glare but he only grinned and picked up some food from Jack’s plate after it had been delivered.

Mouse stood on her chair and yelled for everyone to shut up before pointing at New Kid. “This is Bill. He’s my brother. Eat your damn food.” She turned to him. “And Happy Birthday again,” she added before sitting down and picking up her own sandwich.

\--

“I think it went well,” Bill said as she walked with him and Race back towards his house. “I think your friends didn’t mind me being there.” 

“Coulda’ done without the damn idiot over there laughin’ all night,” she grumbled, which caused Race to start laughing again.

“Hey, it lightened the mood, yeah? An’ it showed all the fellas that I ain’t mad that you got a rich brother now too.”

Mouse rolled her eyes but decided not to respond to him. Really, it made her feel pretty good that Race was so accepting of Bill. And, yeah, it made it easier with the other guys because they usually followed the lead of either Race or Jack. With both of them okay with Bill being there and being who he was, it meant the other newsies would likely just fall in line.

“Can I ask a question though?”

Mouse nodded and looked over to her brother, who looked a bit nervous. She had no idea what he had to be worried about. They’d basically done a meet the family thing and no one had tried to beat him up or spit in his food. She considered the whole thing a success, aside from Race, but it was pretty expected for him to be an idiot at some point, especially if Spot wasn’t there to keep him under control.

“What’s going on with you and Finch?”

Race, the ass, started laughing so hard he started crying, gripping her shoulder to keep himself from falling to the ground. “Nothing,” she said over the loud guffaws. “He was just bein’ … I don’t know. He was tryin’ ta’ get a rise outa you. He probably thought you were my date.”

“An’ he was tryna get a rise outa Davey,” Race added, wiping under his eyes as his laughter trailed off to sporadic giggles. “See if he could get ‘em ta’ snap.”

“Davey?” she and Bill asked at the same time. There was no reason Finch’s ridiculous flirting would cause Davey to have any kind of reaction.

“Come to think of it,” Bill added, “I think you might be right.”

Rolling her eyes, she shoved both of them away from her. “I don’t need you two teamin’ up on me. There ain’t nothin’ between me an’ Davey.”

“Hey, hey. I taught you better ‘en ta’ lie,” Race said with a straight face.

“Uh, no, ya’ taught me how ta’ lie like a champ,” she corrected smugly. “An’ I ain’t lyin’. Finch was just tryna have a little fun on his birthday an’ mess with Bill.” She turned to her brother. “You should pro’lly get used ta’ him callin’ ya’ New Guy though. Least til the other fellas give ya’ a nickname.”

“How – uh, who gives the nicknames?” Bill asked curiously.

Mouse smiled and shrugged. “They just kinda happen. Not everybody gets ‘em though. Albert, Elmer, Jack – though Jack is sometimes Cowboy on accounta’ him wantin’ ta’ go ta’ Santa Fe – don’t really have ‘em. JoJo is JoJo ‘cause his name is so damn long. Most everybody else gotta nickname by another newsie.” 

“Davey and Les?” Bill asked, looking over at Race, who snorted, and then back to Mouse. “They don’t have nicknames.”

“Well, Davey does but that’s just Jack being Jack. They’re not …” She sighed, trying to figure out how she wanted to explain the story with Les and Davey.

“Yeah they do,” Race interrupted. “Well, Davey does. It’s …”

“Don’t you dare!” Mouse shouted, reaching out and clapping her hand over Race’s mouth so he couldn’t say it. Davey’s nickname always made her feel a certain way, a way she shouldn’t and didn’t want to feel, and she definitely didn’t need her brothers noticing her blush.

Race, ever the pain in the ass, decided he wouldn’t be silenced. He licked her hand and grinned triumphantly when she jerked it away. “Walking Mouth,” he said with a grin. “Spot gave it to ‘em. He hates it but Jack thought it was hilarious so he told us all when they got back from Brooklyn.”

“Walking Mouth?” Bill asked, looking at her.

Her face felt hot and she put thoughts of Davey and his mouth out of her head. “Jack says he got a little feisty with Spot,” she said with a shrug. “Tryna get ‘em to join the strike. Spot’s the only one who calls ‘em Mouth though.”

“That’s … interesting. I wouldn’t imagine Davey being very outspoken. Is he not a shy guy?”

“Not once ya’ get ta’ know ‘em,” Race shrugged. “Right, Mouse? He gets pretty _mouthy_ once … ow!”

She shook out the hand she’d just socked him in the arm with. “Shut. Up.”

Race pushed out his bottom lip and looked at her for a minute before turning to Bill. “Our sister’s got a violence problem,” he said seriously. “She hits. Especially when …”

“… you tease her about her crush on Davey?” Bill finished, a wide grin on his face as Race laughed.

Groaning, Mouse threw her hands up in surrender. “I hate you both. I’m going to Brooklyn an’ spending the rest of my days under the _kind_ and _non-assy_ wings of Spot.”

Race’s laughter echoed off the tall buildings and when Bill joined him, Mouse couldn’t help but smile despite the heat in her face. For the first time, she felt like both of her brothers were finally getting along. It made her whole body feel warm and content. 

Now if only they weren’t bonding over teasing her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Initially, it wasn't Finch's birthday, but Davey's, and it was Race who invited Bill. Then I decided I didn't feel like writing a fight, let alone one on Davey's birthday.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill invites Mouse and Race to an art exhibition he's going to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I only read through this (mostly) once. Please point out any glaring errors. Thanks as always!

It started as a regular day. Mouse got up with the others, got dressed, and filed out of the lodging house to head to the distribution center. Finch had her tossed over his shoulder as they stood there, laughing as she snapped his suspenders. She wasn’t that small and he wasn’t that big but it was something he’d been doing for months now, just to get a laugh out of some of the other guys.

“Put me down, ya’ big oaf!” she cried with a laugh, wriggling so he would be forced to either put her down or drop her.

“Gettin’ dizzy from the clean air up here?” he teased before setting her on her feet.

As soon as she was steady, she gave Finch a shove and hopped back, dancing on her toes as she held up her fists. “Ya’ wanna go, bean pole?” Mouse asked with a grin. “I can take ya’!”

“No doubt,” he answered, pulling her under his arm in a side hug. “Let’s save the sparrin’ for later, yeah?”

Mouse shrugged and pointed her fingers at her eyes and then at him. “I’ll be keepin’ my eyes on you.”

When Jack got there, he rallied the younger guys around the papers, pointing out some good selling points. She thought it was great the way he took the kids under his wing. She knew he would be out sooner rather than later and it was really sweet the way he wanted to make sure the younger kids were able to figure out ways to move the papes they bought in the morning.

Moments later, Race showed up, cigar between his teeth and a bruise on his cheek. “Hiya, Mouse,” he grinned. 

“Who gotcha?” she asked, gripping his chin in her hand and turning his head so she could inspect the bruise. “Or didja fall outa bed?”

“Nah, got inta’ a little disagreement wi’ onea the fellas up in Harlem last night. Not to worry – we’s all good now.”

She opened her mouth to respond but decided against it. He got into scrapes more than just about any of the other newsies and he always came out on top, a new shiner or bruise or cut as his trophy. He was proud of himself even though he knew it drove her crazy when he got hurt. She personally tried not to fight unless she needed to. The problem was, when she was with him and he started something with someone – or, less frequently, someone started something with him – she jumped in.

It had been a while since he’d come back with any markings though.

“What was it about?” 

Race shrugged and she knew she wasn’t going to get anything else out of him. She hated when he was closed off but there was nothing she could do about it. While he was more open with her than he was with most, there were things Race kept to himself. Mouse figured everyone was entitled to their secrets.

“Hey, Mouse!” She looked up to see JoJo pointing over to some strange kid standing near the gate. “Kid says he needs ta’ see ya’.”

Curious, she headed over to the kid. He was young, maybe around Les’ age, and he looked like he’d never been inside the distribution center. He was dressed better than a regular newsie too, so she had to wonder if he was just trying to blend in.

“Heya, kid. What can I do ya’ for?" 

“This is from Mr. – uh, this is from Bill?” It sounded more like a question but he held out a piece of paper anyway then stepped back. She stared at him, confused, but he nodded to the paper. “Said he wants me to wait for an answer.”

Frowning, Mouse unfolded the paper to … “Davey!”

It took a moment and some muttered apologies before he appeared at her shoulder. “Everything okay?”

She nodded and handed him the paper. “Can you – the letters are blurry to me. Can you read this for me?”

“Blurry? How long has this …?” At her impatient flick of the paper, he rolled his eyes and read. “Margaret, There is an art exhibition opening one week from Saturday at 7PM at the Cooper Union. Jack and Katherine will be attending, as will my lady, Annie, and I. I think it might be enjoyable for you as well. Please feel free to invite Racetrack. Send word back with Nathaniel. Best – WRHJ.”

“An _art exhibition_?” she asked, her nose wrinkled. “I donno who he thinks his – who he thinks I am but that don’t sound like nothin’ I’d do.”

“He’s makin’ an effort to bring ya’ into his life, Mouse,” Davey said, a little smile on his face. “It’s his version of you askin’ him ta’ come ta’ Finch’s birthday." 

She chewed on the inside of her cheek for a minute, looked over her shoulder to see Race jumping onto Henry’s back and whooping like a lunatic, and then turned her attention back to the kid. “Tell Mr. Bill that me an’ Race’ll be there.”

The kid tipped his hat and took the note back before turning and running as fast as his short legs could carry him. If it hadn’t been obvious before that the kid wasn’t a newsie, it certainly was then.

“How long have you had blurry vision?” Davey asked as they headed back towards the others.

“Don’t,” she answered with a shrug. “Just didn’t know all the words an’ didn’t want the kid ta’ know.”

Davey’s silence made her cheeks turn pink, though she was glad he didn’t comment rather than question her about her limited reading skills. It was embarrassing, sure, but it wasn’t like she’d gone to school enough to know big words like Bill used. She knew enough to get by and to sell papers; that was all she needed.

\--

“I need your help.”

Jack looked up from his sketchbook to see Peg, hands clasped behind her back. She looked nervous and it intrigued him. Tilting his head, he offered her a nod and shut the book. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Uh, Bill sent a note about the art thing. I said I would go, but, uh. I don’t got nothin’ ta’ wear. I was wonderin’ if ya’ might talk ta’ Miss Medda fer’ me. Maybe see if she might have a dress or somethin’ from onea the shows that she don’t need no more.”

That definitely hadn’t been what he was expecting from her. First, he’d thought she would turn down the art exhibit. She’d only shown a passing interest in his sketches, she didn’t spend time looking at the street art or posters like lots of other kids did, and she just didn’t really seem like the type. And second, he didn’t think she’d be able to convince Race to go with her. In fact, he’d kind of hoped Race wouldn’t agree. He loved the kid but he _definitely_ wasn’t the type for an art show with the crowd that was gonna be there. 

“I’m sure she’s got somethin’,” Jack agreed. “I’ll take ya’ with me the next time I go, if ya’ want. Make it easier for Medda ta’ find somethin’ if she can get a good look atcha.”

She nodded and Jack thought that would be it, but Peg stayed where she was, just far enough away to not intrude but close enough that he knew he needed to invite her in. It was clear she had something on her mind and if she was trusting him with it, he would be the guy she thought he was.

“Take a load off,” he said before going back to his sketching. Peg would talk in her own time, he knew, and it would just make them both uneasy of he sat there and didn’t do anything while she worked her way through what she wanted to say.

She walked further into the room and sat on the floor, her back against one of the bunks. It was raining outside so he’d decided to sketch in the bunkroom since most of the boys were hanging out downstairs. The only exception was Mush, who was napping a few beds away after not being able to sleep the night before.

He was halfway through shading a drawing he was doing of Les when she spoke up. 

“How do ya’ do it?”

“Do what?” he asked, smudging one of the shadows on Les’ cheek. 

“Be parta’ that world. Katherine’s world. We ain’t … like them. How do ya’ fit in?”

Jack had never really thought about it, if he was honest. Being with Katherine felt natural for him and he tended to just follow her lead when they were out in her neck of the woods. He talked less, sure, and tried to pronounce things the way the folks around him did. Maybe that was what Peg was talking about. 

“Just … be yaself but follow their lead?” he suggested. “Kath ain’t never let me feel like I don’t belong an’ I don’t think Bill would do it ta’ you.”

“He’s bringin’ his girl though. He prolly ain’t gonna spend much time thinkin’ ‘bout me. An’ I’m gonna haveta’ babysit Racer too,” she added, grinning a bit. “I don’t know why I said yes. Prolly just didn’t wanna disappoint ‘em, y’know?”

Her honesty surprised him, as did her desire to not disappoint Bill. Their relationship had grown the last few weeks and Jack was happy for her. It seemed like things were okay with Race too. He’d checked in with the kid on how he was holding up and Race had spouted off about all the pranks he was going to teach Bill to pull on Darcy. He assumed that meant Race was getting along with Peg’s brother pretty good too.

“I get it,” he said as he shut the book and walked over to where she was, sliding down onto the floor beside her. “But he don’t wantcha ta’ be anyone but yaself. He wants his sista’, not someone who looks like her but don’t act like her.”

Peg let out a breath and rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m nervous,” she admitted, making Jack’s stomach clench uncomfortably. “I don’t think I regret sayin’ yes but …” She trailed off and Jack let her gather her thoughts. Peg wasn’t one to be pushed in the same way some of the other fellas were, so he just let her work it out on her own. “I donno. I guess I just want it to go good.”

“Me an’ Kath’ll be right there with ya’,” he promised. “And Racer. And you know if he’s there, he’ll keep ya’ occupied and distracted.” 

“Yeah,” she agreed, sitting up again. “Yeah. And if it don’t work, me an’ Race can just leave. Don’t think Bill would be mad or nothin’ if I had ta’ go cuz I was uncomfortable. Brothers ain’t like that, right?”

“Ain’t never had a real brotha’,” Jack told her, “but I wouldn’t want anya’ the newsies ta’ have ta’ stick around for somethin’ they ain’t liked. That’s probably the same thought.” 

“Yeah,” Peg agreed, now sounding more confident. “If he could come down ta’ Finch’s birthday, I can go ta’ the art thing. S’only fair, right?”

“Right,” he agreed with a grin, knocking his shoulder into hers. “And who knows? You might just get some culture in ya’.”

“Don’t hold ya’ breath.”

\--

Saturday nights were family nights in the Jacobs family. They always went to temple at sundown and then headed back home to spend time as a family. His mother would cook, Les would set the table, and David would read or discuss current events with his father. Even when his pop was working, Saturdays were always for family only. 

With David and Les working, it was a little harder to make sure they were home on time for temple, but his father had given him an old watch and told him to be sure they were back. Temple and dinner were non-negotiable. 

“That was quite the Derashah tonight,” his mother said as they stepped inside the small apartment. She removed her headscarf and jacket, handing them to David, before moving to the kitchen. “It shouldn’t be long to get the soup warmed up. Les, dear, please wash up and set the table.”

“Yes, _mame_ ,” his brother obeyed, following her into the kitchen and pulling out his stool so he could reach into the cabinet for the bowls. 

“David, sit, talk to me about work,” his father invited. “Your mother and brother have dinner well-handled.”

Nodding, David sat at the table across from his father. “It’s good,” he said, knowing that wouldn’t be enough for his father. “Les is much better than I am at it,” David added with a chuckle. “Jack still says he was born to the breed. I think it’s just cuz he’s short.”

“I ain’t short!” The retort came as Les pushed as high as he could onto his toes to reach for the bowls. It made him and his father chuckle.

David had to admit that he loved the time he got to spend with his family. He got Les basically all day every day, but that was work. If it wasn’t for his mother’s Saturday night mandate, he had no idea when they would all be able to spend time together.

“Jack is getting ready to call another meeting of the union,” David commented. “I’ve been reading up on it and we need to have meetings every once in a while so it doesn’t become defunct.”

“Davey said a bad word!” Les crowed childishly as he set the bowls on the table. “You’se guys all heard ‘em!”

“I did not,” David defended. “Defunct means not operating.”

Les stuck his tongue out and returned to the kitchen, probably to get spoons.

“That’s good. Are you still helping him with it?” his father asked.

“Yeah,” he answered. “I do the readin’ and he does the talkin’. It’s easier when it’s comin’ from one place. And I definitely don’t mind not having to get up in fronta’ all the fellas and … yeah. That ain’t me.”

“Nothing wrong with that. David, dear, can you please get everyone a glass of water? The soup should be done soon,” his mother informed them.

“Of course,” he agreed, standing and heading into the kitchen. “Scram, Squirt. I’ll take carea’ the rest. Go wash up.”

“How come Jack didn’t come over tonight?” Les asked as he shoved his hands into his pockets instead of doing as he was told.

“’Cause it’s Saturday,” David answered, putting his hands on Les’ shoulders and turning him to push him towards the door. “And he’s goin’ out with Katherine, her friends, Mouse and Race.”

“Are Mouse an’ Race …?” He made a kissy face and David gave him a shove. 

“No,” he said with an eye roll. “He’s her best friend.”

“Sounds likea’ date ta’ me,” Les decided before taking off for the hallway so he could wash his hands. 

David filled their glasses and put them on the table before following his brother out to the common waterspout. “You done?”

“Uh huh! I’ll race ya’ back!” 

David didn’t bother trying to rush to beat his brother. The kid was so full of energy and sass, and David had no idea what would happen when he was forced back into a classroom.

The thought was weighing heavily on David for himself as well. He wanted to go back to school, finish the education he started, get into college and find a career that would help him take care of his family. The problem was, e didn’t really know what he was good at. It sure wasn’t selling papers. But he wasn’t one to get in front of a group of people either. That kind of narrowed down his career options.

More and more, he thought maybe he should just work hard to convince his parents he and Les should be allowed to keep working even after his father found a new job. It was what Les wanted and David had to admit, he liked being with the newsies much better than he liked being with his former classmates.

The only problem was that he was getting close to aging out. He was tall already, and looked older than a lot of the boys. Folks would rather buy from little kids than big kids, he knew. Absently, he wondered how long Spot would be able to sell since he was a whole head shorter than David.

After he washed up, he headed back into the apartment. His family would definitely be better off if he stayed working once his father got a new job. They would be able to afford better groceries and maybe some warmer clothes and blankets for next winter. It wouldn’t be easy, but David decided to make it his mission to convince his folks to let him keep working instead of going back to school. Besides, he’d already missed almost a year anyway. He’d be too far behind to stay with his class and he was teased enough without being the kid who wasn’t able to move up a grade with the rest of his peers. 

Dinner was ready when he got in, so he took his usual seat and recited the same prayer he did every night the four of them were able to eat together. Some people would call it boring, but David liked the consistency. Les made the days, and sometimes nights, of selling interested, often leading him and Jack on adventures through the streets of New York, but David enjoyed the calm that came with the end of the day. He particularly liked Saturday nights with his family. 

The four of them started to eat, his mother filling the boys in on her visit to see Sarah that afternoon. “She works too hard,” his mother was saying. “Fingers red and bleeding. I wish that husband of hers would get the promotion he’s expecting already. Just the thought of her working her fingers raw …”

“He will, _mame_ ,” David assured her. “And I think he said he was thinking of going to school to be a pharmacist. That would certainly help them out once he was finished. She would probably be able to stop working all together.”

“And start a family,” his mother grinned dreamily.

David laughed and ate another spoonful of soup. “Delicious, as always,” he told his mother, feeling pride in his chest when she turned pink. She loved the compliments they would give her and it made him feel good to make his mother happy. With times as hard as they were, it was the little things that helped.

A knock sounded at the door and the four Jacobs looked at each other. “Who could that be?” he mother asked, confused.

“I’m not sure,” David said as he pushed his chair out and stood. “I’ll get it.”

He made his way over to the door – a short distance for someone with legs as long as his – and tried to think of whom it could be. Maybe Sarah and her husband were coming over to share dinner, he thought to himself as his hand twisted them knob.

To say David was shocked when he opened the door to see who was on the other side would be an understatement. In fact, he blinked several times just to make sure he was seeing who he thought he was. At her slightly nervous but increasingly impatient look, David asked, “Mouse?”

“Thank god you’re home,” she said and he could see the relief flooding her body. “I need your help.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, looking past her as if to see if there was some kind of commotion. He couldn’t hear any shouting and, wait … “Why are you here and in a dress? Aren’t you supposed to be going to the exhibition with Jack and … everyone?”

“I am. I’m on my way there now,” Mouse said, shifting from side to side. “But, I, uh … like I said, I need your help.”

“David? Who’s at the door?” his father called.

Blushing, David stepped back and nodded for Mouse to come in. She did, her hands wringing together nervously. As soon as she saw his family at the table, she looked up at him. “I’m sorry. It’s dinnertime. I’ll just … I’m sorry I interrupted.”

“ _Mame_ , Pop, this is Mouse – uh, Margaret. She’s one of the newsies I work with.”

“She’s the best girl seller in Manhattan!” Les piped up. “Hiya, Mouse. Whatcha doin’ here? Didn’t ya’ have a date with Race tonight?”

David shot his brother a scathing look before turning back to Mouse. “You said ya’ need help?”

“Race’s sick and can’t get outa’ bed,” she said softly. “I was gonna … but you’ve got …” she waved vaguely at the table. “I didn’t mean ta’ interrupt.”

“It’s quite all right, dear,” his mother said as she stood from the table. “Would you like a bowl of soup?”

“Oh, no, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am. I just, I’m meetin’ some folks and I was –“ She looked up at him and cut herself off, shaking her head. “I should be goin’. Thanks for the offer though. It’s awful nice of ya’."

“Mouse?” he questioned, his hand moving to her shoulder. “What didja come for?”

“No, I – just …” She sighed. “It don’t matter. You got stuff goin’ on.”

Taking a step closer, his lowered his voice and tilted his head towards her so they could keep their conversation private in the small area. “Margaret.”

It took a minute before she relented with a sigh. “I was gonna ask if ya’ wanted ta’ go with me. To the art thing.”

“Oh.” He didn’t know why the admission shocked him. If he hadn’t been so distracted by Mouse in his apartment in a pretty dress and talking to his mother, he probably would have figured out what she was here for. Instead, he’d been wrapped up in the experience and hadn’t let his mind work at all. “I’m sorry, I –“

“David.” He turned to see a _look_ on his mother’s face and a small smile on his father’s. “Why don’t you go smarten up and take your friend to the art show?”

“I – Pop, it’s …”

“It’s okay, darling,” his mother added. “You go ahead a clean up and I’ll convince your friend to have a little soup before you go.”

David turned back to Mouse, whose cheeks were now dusted with pink, and gave her a small, nervous smile. “Shouldn’t take me long,” he said softly. “And you should have some soup. My mom makes the best.”

“Are you sure?” she whispered to him, reaching out for his arm as he made to go get ready. “I really don’t wanna pull you away from …" 

He put his hand over hers and smiled. “I’ll be ready in fifteen minutes. Have some soup and don’t listen to a word they say about me.”

His smile turned into a grin as he moved to his room to change. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be his typical Saturday night with the family, and maybe this would be the only Saturday night of its kind, but David had to admit, even if it was just to himself, that he was pretty excited to be going out with Mouse.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mouse, Davey, Jack, Katherine, Bill and Annie go to the art exhibit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have an extra long chapter that I just couldn't find a way to end. :) The muse is strong in this one.

“I appreciate you doin’ this,” Mouse said as they walked down the street towards the Cooper Union. “I wouldn’t’a come if I knew you had a family thing tonight though.” 

Now that she’d gotten Davey to go with her, she was nervous and almost regretting it. She was already going to be in an unfamiliar place with mostly unfamiliar people, and then she added onto that by brining Davey because Race was sick. It made Mouse wish she was the kind of person to back out on a commitment. 

She wasn’t, though. She had told her brother that she would go to the show and she was going to, no matter how uncomfortable she was.

“It’s okay,” Davey told her, hands in his pockets. “I’m just glad you got there when you did and not an hour earlier. We weren’t back from temple yet.”

“Your folks are nice,” Mouse told him after a few seconds. “Offerin’ food like that. I know why Jack was always eatin’ with youse guys now.”

“Jack’s always eating with us because he’s a mooch,” Davey grinned. “I think if we had more, my folks would want all the kids to come by for something warm to eat. They’re good people.”

Mouse nodded, smiling a little. “They are,” she agreed. It sent a spike of pain through her heart, though. She felt bad for being jealous, knowing that Davey and Les deserved to have good parents, but she thought that all kids did. Mouse just wished she knew what it felt like.

“Hey, uh – I didn’t say thanks yet,” he said after a minute. “For invitin’ me. Jack’s been talkin’ about it all week and it kinda got me interested. Now I got a pretty good excuse ta’ go even if I don’t know much about art at all.”

“Only bit I know is what Jack’s told me,” she replied with a shrug. “And most of it goes over my head. I can’t draw for squat. I like lookin’ at Jack’s drawins’ though.”

“Do you know what the exhibit is about?”

She looked up at him like he was an idiot. “Art.” Really, for a kid who talks as smart as Davey does, he could be real stupid sometimes.

It was clear that Davey wasn’t offended by the look she gave him with the way he laughed and moved one of his hands to her upper arm. It was warm through the thin fabric of her sleeves. He didn’t touch her often, his little brother much more tactile than him, but tonight he seemed to be more liberal with his hands.

She turned away to cough so he wouldn’t see the heat rising to her cheeks at the thought.

“I just didn’t know if you knew who the artist was or if there was a theme to it,” he said as he returned his hand to his pocket. “I couldn’t really understand Jack with how excited he got when he was talking about it. You know how he gets.”

Mouse nodded and added a snort for good measure. “Like Race when he gets a tip on a horse.”

“How’s that going, by the way?”

“Race an’ his tips?” she asked, brows furrowed. “He’s still makin’ terrible bets. Loses more ‘an he makes some days.”

“No,” Davey corrected, and there was that little grin again. “I meant with Race and Bill. I don’t – I try not ta’ ask him about it because I don’t know how it’s going. Everyone seemed to get along pretty great at Finch’s party but, y’know, I thought maybe ya’ threatened him or somethin’.”

It was her turn to laugh and shake her head. “Nah, I don’t wanna force either of ‘em ta’ change or anythin’. Race’s … he’s doin’ okay with it. I think he actually likes Bill. More like they both like teasin’ me, but if they’s bondin’, who am I ta’ stand in the way of it, y’know?”

“And Bill? He’s okay with being your second brother?”

“He’s … yeah, I think so. I mean, sometimes he talks like this ain’t all new. Maybe he feels like he does around his brothers, like he’s tryin’ ta’ feel like I been there all along. I donno. I don’t mind, though. It’s …”

She didn’t know how to say what she wanted to say without hurting someone’s feelings, even if they weren’t there. Davey was the logical one of the group, though, and she knew he wouldn’t let his emotions get the better of him when she said it.

“It’s nice to know that I’m wanted, y’know? Like, I get the fellas want me around and I know Race does but he’s got … uh … he’s got someone, I guess, and one day, it’s gonna … he ain’t gonna needa’ look after me no more and I think maybe Bill’ll feel like he does.”

“You never struck me as someone who wanted to be taken care of,” Davey said neutrally and she was glad for it. She didn’t know how she would have reacted if he’d said anything different.

“I donno. I guess everyone needs someone ta’ take carea’ them once in a while, don’t they? I mean, you got ya’ family. They’s always gonna be there for you.”

Davey was quiet for the span of a block and Mouse got a bit nervous. She’d probably offended him or something and it made anxiety twist and claw at her stomach. They hadn’t even reached the show yet and she’d ruined their night. 

“I think Race’ll always be there for you,” he said eventually. “And Jack, Finch – I mean, obviously Finch – and, y’know, I’ll be there if ya’ ever need me.”

She ignored the last part of his sentence, that was something she could think about later when she was on her own and no one could see her blush. “Obviously Finch?” she repeated, looking over at him. “What does that mean?”

“I – uh.” The sun was setting but she could see the pink rising on his cheeks and ears. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling at it. “I mean, you and Finch, right?”

“What about me and Finch?”

Davey was quiet for a long minute and Mouse wondered if he just wasn’t going to answer her. It was clear it embarrassed him or made him uncomfortable and Mouse thought it was a little bit cute but more unsettling.

“Aren’t you two … y’know. Together?”

Mouse couldn’t help it; she burst out laughing harder than Race had at Finch’s dinner. Maybe it was just because Davey and Bill didn’t live at the lodging house, but the two of them easily believed she and Finch had some kind of relationship. Sure, he flirted with her more than anyone else but everyone knew Smalls could soak him. She honestly didn’t think Finch was interested in anyone but she supposed it wouldn’t look that way to others.

“No,” she told him as she gulped in breaths to steady her breathing. “No, him an’ me … no. He likes flirtin’ but that’s all.”

“Oh. Oh, okay.” She thought he might have sounded a little relieved but she wasn’t going to think about that. “I just thought …” He didn’t finish his sentence but he didn’t need to.

“Bill asked the same thing on accounta’ how Finch was flirtin’ at his party. He was jus’ tryna’ get a rise outa’ Bill an’ …” She snapped her mouth shut so she didn’t continue her thought, the thought that Race had put words to that night when they were walking Bill back home.

“Bill and …?” Davey asked, curious.

She shook her head. “Get a rise outa’ Bill an’ see if he would snap at ‘em,” she said, thinking quick on her feet. “Didn’t work, though. No one really cares who he flirts with.”

“Right,” Davey said with a nod. “S’just who he is.”

“Exactly. Like Jack but without the girlfriend.”

Davey laughed and nodded, she thought it was probably in agreement, and then tipped his head to the left. “I think it’s down that way.”

Stopping, she looked up at the street signs and nodded. “Yup. Almost there. And probably only a little bit late.”

\--

“They’re late,” Bill said as he paced back and forth in front of Cooper Union. “Do you think they’re lost? I should probably go find them. You think they’d take Seventh or Eighth up?”

“Calm down,” Jack told him with a sigh as he leaned casually against the wall of the Union. “They’s never been here b’fore. Prolly just a little turned around.”

“Look at you, Mr. Casual,” Katherine laughed, shoving lightly at her boyfriend. “You’ve been nervous about this since Margaret said she and Race were going to come.”

“Because it’s _Race_ and a swanky art show. Come to think of it, I don’t think Peg’s ever been ta’ somethin’ like this before either. You’ll be nervous too the first time he opens his mouth and says what he really thinks about a paintin’, I bet.”

Bill couldn’t help but smile at that. He and Racetrack had been getting along well when the other boy trailed along for his outings with his sister. They never spent time alone but Bill was okay with that. He wasn’t sure what he had in common with Race aside from Margaret and he wasn’t in any particular hurry to find out. And he didn’t want Margaret to feel left out, either, 

“Margaret assured me Race has promised to be on his best behavior,” Bill said with a chuckle. “And I know I wouldn’t cross her if I made a promise like that.” 

“I’m excited to meet her.”

Bill looked to his left and couldn’t stop the smile from crossing his face. Annie was standing there calmly, a red dress on, and her dark hair in neat curls. She was so beautiful and he couldn’t wait for her to meet his sister. “She’s excited too,” he promised, reaching out and taking her hand. He brought it to his lips and pressed a kiss to the material of her gloves. “She spends so much time with boys, Smalls and Katherine are really her only female friends.”

“And Race when he screams.”

Bill turned to see Margaret approaching, but she wasn’t with Racetrack. He was fairly shocked to see his sister in a real dress, not one she borrowed from Katherine, approaching with David Jacobs instead of her constant companion and best friend. He arched a brow and gave her a grin before pulling her into a hug. “That’s not Race,” he whispered into her ear, a light chuckle following. 

“Ain’t as dumb as ya’ hairstyle makes ya’ look,” she whispered back, tapping him on the back and pulling away.

He chuckled at her and straightened up, extending a hand to David. “Good to see you again.”

“I hope you don’t mind,” the younger boy said as he shook his hand. “It was kind of last minute.”

“Race is sick,” Margaret added. “I kinda bombarded Davey at home an’ asked him to come so. Is – is it okay?”

“Of course it is,” he answered. “David’s always welcome.” A throat cleared behind him and he mentally slapped himself on the forehead. “Sorry.” He held his hand out for Annie and she took it, stepping beside him. “Margaret, this is Annie. Annie, my sister Margaret.”

“Nice to meet you,” his girlfriend said, extending her hand. “I’ve been bugging Will for weeks. I’m glad you decided to come.”

Margaret grinned and looked at him before taking Annie’s hand. “Yeah, he’s pretty persuasive. This is Davey. He sells wi’ me an’ Jack.”

Annie shook David’s hand and Jack turned to look at the doors into the Union for the four hundredth time since they’d gotten there. Katherine laughed and swatted at him but he only bounced on his feet a little and pointed. “It’s gonna get crowded an’ we ain’t gonna get a good look at nothin’,” he complained. “Peg’s here. _Davey’s_ here. Let’s get a move on.”

Everyone gave him a little chuckle and then Bill motioned to the door. “Lead the way, Jack.”

The six of them entered, smiling at the attendants who gave them a thorough once over. Bill was a little nervous because Jack, Margaret and Davey were in older, cheaper fashions, but they just told them to enjoy the exhibit and that the artist should be by later that night. He couldn’t help but laugh at the look of childlike joy that crossed Jack’s face.

He offered his arm to Annie as Jack did the same for Katherine and the four of them headed forward.

He looked at his sister, who was a little pink in the face as she and David approached, and arched a brow. She shoved him and gave him a smile. “Go look at the first paintin’,” she told him.

He watched her, grinning, for another beat before Annie called to him and he headed over to stand beside her. It was a painting of a well-dressed man in a suit, head tipped in thought. Annie was studying it closely and Jack was on her other side, eyes squinting as he took in every detail. He couldn’t help but smile when they got into an animated discussion about the color choices. He should have known the two of them would hit it off. Annie was an artist herself, though she preferred to stick to light watercolors and painted mostly landscapes.

“What do you think?” he asked as Margaret and David came up to stand beside him.

“It’s kinda dark,” she said, looking up at him. “And, y’know, a bit boring.”

He had to agree. He preferred paintings where his eyes were drawn to different places. This was just a man, not a particularly interesting man, thinking. “Yeah. Hopefully they’re not all like that one.”

“Jack and Annie seem to be enjoying it. And Katherine seems to be enjoying Jack explaining it to her,” David added, pushing his hands into his pockets.

“She just likes to see him all lit up like that,” Margaret told him. “She don’t give a lick about what he’s sayin’. Ain’t no one but someone who likes art gonna like that picture.”

“And I was worried about _Race’s_ honesty,” Bill chuckled, stopping immediately when her face fell. “It’s okay. I like it, your honesty.” He licked his lips and looked around. “You don’t have to censor yourself, Margaret.”

“Just a little quieter?” she asked, shifting uncomfortable. “I can do that.”

He didn’t miss the way she stilled and then relaxed a bit when David’s hand landed on her elbow. “I think maybe you and I can wander around … maybe find paintings that catch our eye. I think Jack’s going to want to spend about an hour with each one and I’m not sure I have the attention span for it.”

Bill had never been so grateful to a person in his life. Margaret immediately relaxed and gave him a nod. “Is that okay?” she asked, looking up at him. “I know you invited me ta’ …”

“We’ll catch up with you,” Bill answered quickly, not wanting her to work herself up or talk herself out of going to find something that held her interest. “Have fun.”

Margaret bit her bottom lip and then offered him a small smile before heading off with David. He let out a sigh and shook his head before heading over to the others.

“Where’d Peg an’ Davey go?” Jack asked.

“Probably away from you,” Katherine laughed. “Not everyone wants to spend ten minutes discussing the shade of yellow used in the background of the first painting in the exhibit.”

“Their loss,” Jack muttered before pointing to the next picture and gesturing for Annie to lead the way.

Bill shared a grin with his friend as they followed their significant others to the very next painting on the wall and he resigned himself to a very long night.

\--

“You keep coming back to this one,” he said softly as Margaret stopped in front of a painting of the Brooklyn Bridge again. It was probably the fifth time that she’d stopped to look since spotting it after leaving the others.

“It’s familiar,” Margaret answered with a shrug. “It feels comfortable.” 

David nodded and stood beside her. “Every time, I look right … there,” he said, pointing to one spot on the bridge. “And I wonder if the artist was painting when me and Jack were going to Brooklyn. I could be in this painting.” He grinned. “Or you could,” he added. “You and Race go to Brooklyn enough.”

Margaret smiled and gave him a nod. “It’s a neat thought,” she agreed. “Or when me an’ Race was comin’ back an’ you an’ Jack an’ Les met us. It was …” She pointed to a place near the middle. “Right about there.”

“I think you like art,” he told her with a grin. “Just … specific kinds. Almost every painting you’ve stopped at has been of something in the city. A building, a block, a park. You really love New York, don’tcha?”

She shrugged and moved away from the painting of the bridge and on to one of people in one of the parks. “It’s cuz I been there. I can look at this an’ say it’s Bronx Park. That these folks are here b’cause ya’ can’t really hear the noises from the city proper and the air smells fresher than in Manhattan.” She looked up to him and smiled slightly. “I think you might like it there.” She paused, shifting a bit, then looked back to the painting. “I could take you one time. If you wanted.”

David felt his stomach flip in a not-unpleasant way. The thought of her showing him someplace she liked made some kind of unnamed emotion rise in his chest. “Yeah,” he agreed, hoping it wasn’t too quick. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Maybe in spring,” she offered. “Before it gets too hot but after the, uh, flowers and stuff are alive again.”

“Sounds good to me. It’ll be nice.”

“Yeah. Unless you’re back in school,” she added, and he thought she might have sounded a little nervous or sad about that.

“I don’t think I’m gonna go back,” he admitted as they turned away from the painting of the park and moved towards another. “To school.”

“What?” she asked, whirling around on him and making him stumble and reach out for her shoulders to keep his balance. “What d’ya’ mean ya’ ain’t goin’ back?”

He removed his hands as she crossed her arms across her chest and gave him a glare. Wasn’t she just maybe upset about him going back like, five seconds ago? “I mean I’m more of a help to my family if I’m workin’. And I lost so much time I’d never be able ta’ keep up with my class.”

“You gotta go back,” she told him, stepping closer. “You an’ Les … you gotta go back when ya’ can.”

“Margaret?”

“D’ya’ even know how lucky ya’ are ta’ have a chance ta’ go to school? Us kids, we don’t got that. You could grow up an’, I donno. Do somethin’ with a real union though. Or-or somethin’ with readin’ an’ researchin’. You’re good at those things. You’re too smart ta’ wind up like mosta’ us are gonna.”

David was a little taken aback by how much passion was in her voice as she told him of the things he could do, what he was good at. Honestly, he hadn’t considered she’d been paying attention to him that closely. “I didn’t -.”

“No, you didn’t,” she cut him off. “Just – I know I got nothin’ ta’ do wi’ your choice but … I don’t think you should give it up. Ya’ got too bright of a future.”

David knew his family believed in him. His father had made him promise to go back to school once he’d found another job because he was “too smart” to just be a working kid, but the way Margaret spoke, it stirred something within him. If this girl thought he had the potential, maybe he really did. He wouldn’t decide just because a pretty girl told him to do something, but he would keep it in mind before making his choice.

Nodding, he reached out and squeezed her hand. “I’ll think about it.”

They stood there for a second, not saying anything and just looking at each other, before he was bumped into from behind and dropped her hand. He turned around to give the person a piece of his mind when he came face to face with his grinning best friend. “Heya, Davey.”

“Hey, Jack. Enjoying the show?” he asked, glancing over to see Margaret being led away by Katherine and Annie.

“Not as much as you’re enjoying the company,” Jack said with smirk. “Peg, huh?”

“Shut up.”

“Holdin’ hands …” Jack whistled. “Didn’t know ya’ had it in ya’.”

“It ain’t like that,” he told his friend. “We were just … talkin’ about me goin’ back ta’ school.”

“Ya’ ever notice ya’ proper talk slips when ya’ nervous?” Jack asked and no, David had never noticed that. “Whatcha nervous about, Davey boy? Maybe a certain newsie with long hair an’ a pretty dress an’ a rich brother?”

“I’m not nervous,” David replied properly, though he knew he was caught. “Not about Margaret. She just made some good points and I’m thinking about them.”

He could tell by the look on his best friend’s face that he absolutely did not believe him, but David wasn’t going to argue anymore. He didn’t exactly have a leg to stand on, either. Jack had him pegged and he knew it. David would never admit it though.

\--

“Oh my god, when did _that_ happen?” Katherine asked with something akin to giddiness as she and Annie stopped her in an empty corner of the exhibit hall.

“When did what happen?” she asked, confused, as she smoothed out her skirt and crossed her arms. “An’ what was _that_?”

“You and Davey,” Katherine said, her smile wide. “Not that we haven’t all been expecting it since Finch’s birthday party. But having your first official date be a triple date with your brother and your friend is a little insane, don’t you think? Or is this not your first official date?” Katherine shoved her in the arm. “Have you been holding out on me?”

Mouse just stared at her, mouth hanging open. She was sure there were people staring at them but she couldn’t bring herself to move or say anything. Everything Katherine had just said was repeating itself in her head, over and over again until it was just Katherine saying everyone had expected it. _She_ hadn’t expected it. Sure, maybe she liked Davey’s smile and his laugh and how smart he was but that didn’t mean they were expected to date.

Davey didn’t even see her like that.

When she told that to Katherine and Annie, the former barked out a laugh and the latter laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“I haven’t known either of you very long but I already know that’s not true,” Annie said softly. “He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you all night.” 

Mouse shook her head. “It’s a nice thought but it ain’t true. And that’s okay. I mean, we was just fightin’ about him goin’ back ta’ school anyway. Not that his dad found a job yet,” she added with a frown. “But anyway, it’s nothin’. We’re friends an’ that’s all.”

Katherine, obviously realizing that she didn’t want to talk about Davey anymore, nodded. “Okay. How did you enjoy the paintings?”

Feeling the tension release from her shoulders, Mouse smiled a bit. “There was a couple I really liked. I’m gonna take Davey ta’ Bronx Park in the spring if he ain’t back in school already. He ain’t been there b’fore an’ he liked the paintin’ too.”

Annie looked like she wanted to say something but she just nodded. “That sounds like a nice time. It’s beautiful in the spring.”

“You been there?” she asked, surprised. “I didn’t think you was someone who left Manhattan a lot.”

Chuckling, Annie shrugged. “I paint what I think is beautiful. My sister was over in the Bronx with her beau and he took her there and she reported back to me.”

“Don’t tell Jack about it,” Katherine said with a grin. “He’ll drag me all over the place to find new, special things to paint.”

“Jack’s better with faces,” Mouse said with a shrug. “An’ we all know you’ll go wherever he wants jus’ so you’se guys can spend more time together.”

“That’s true,” Katherine replied, unashamed. “But he’s going to be working full time at the paper soon, so who knows how much time we’ll have together once that happens.”

“He’s going to be working at The World, right?” Annie asked.

“Yes,” Katherine answered. “We’ll have someone at all four major papers. Maybe one day Jack’ll take over The World and I’ll take over The Sun and then we’ll all be owners of the four major papers.” She looked over to Mouse. “Did Bill introduce you to Darcy yet?”

“Jus’ met ‘em the night of the Banner,” she answered, “not since findin’ out Bill’s my brother.”

“How did you find out?” Annie asked curiously. “Bill just turns red and starts stuttering and twitching when I ask.”

Mouse laughed and shook her head. “Yeah, he wasn’t too proud of himself. He kinda sprung it on me. He had Jack an’ Kath an’ my brother Race bring me ta’ the park and he just kinda told me. An’ then I ran away.”

“You have another brother?” Annie asked with interest.

“Not my blood brother or nothin’,” Mouse answered. “He’s the one what found me when I was on the street. Been like a brother ta’ me since.”

“I’m still surprised Race let us go through with the introduction,” Katherine added. “He was _not_ happy about it.”

“Aww, Margaret, you told Annie how we met properly?” Bill asked as he and the other boys joined the group. He took his girlfriend’s hand in his and Jack wrapped his arms around Katherine from behind.

Davey came to stand beside her, cheeks a little pink, but he didn’t touch her. She was pretty sure she felt that more than she would have if he’d put a hand on her shoulder. Her fingers itched to reach out for his, to continue the connection they’d had before Jack had interrupted them, but she couldn’t. There was absolutely no way she would do something that would prove Katherine and Annie right and let Davey know she had feelings for him.

“Bill suggested we get outa here and go grab a bite. You ladies up for it?” Jack asked.

“My treat,” Bill added, his eyes on her and Davey. It was a little embarrassing but she couldn’t deny that she would have to skip it if her brother wasn’t paying.

Katherine and Annie quickly agreed but she looked up to Davey. “Is it okay if you stay out later? If not, I can walk home with ya’ instead.”

Davey seemed to think for a minute before glancing at Jack and Bill. If she wasn’t mistaken the boys gave him some kind of encouraging look just before he reached out and tentatively took her hand. “I can stay out later,” he told her with a small smile.

She fought herself to keep her own smile small as her stomach flipped and she squeezed his hand lightly. “Okay.” She turned her attention back to the others, ignoring the knowing smiles of the girls. “Let’s go get some food.”


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fight, some advice, and Davey blushing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving to everyone who celebrates it. He's a (shorter) chapter for you!

“What are you doing for Thanksgiving?” Bill asked as he took a bite of his sausage sandwich.

Mouse looked up from her soup and frowned. Was it that time of year already? Had it already been four months since she got a brother? “When’s’at?” she asked before bringing her spoon to her mouth.

Bill chuckled and looked over at her. When it became obvious to him that she was seriously asking, he frowned. “Thursday.”

“Workin’,” she shrugged, reaching over and stealing the corner off of one of Race’s slices of bread while he was talking to Mush. “Newsie’s work is never done." 

“You have to work on Thanksgiving?” he asked, his face showing how horrible the thought that was. “Do the kids at the Journal?”

“If you’se got a pape ta’ put out, yeah,” she said, thinking it should have been obvious. “Mostly it’s gonna be the kids that ain’t got a family or whose family ain’t got money fer it. “

“They don’t serve Thanksgiving at the lodging house?”

Race, now turned to butt into the conversation she was having with Bill, snorted. “Ain’t serve mostly nothin’ there. The old man pro’lly won’t even be around. He gots grandkids and such.”

“So you’ll work and then … what?” Bill asked with a frown.

“Come here, maybe?” she suggested, looking at Race. “And Spot’s turn to come over this way, right? Ain’t goin’ ta’ Brooklyn?”

“Yeah, he’s gonna come here, he said. Most likely we’ll come here fer lunch before Jacobi closes sos he can have dinner wi’ ‘is family,” Race answered. “Then maybe play cards ‘til the evenin’ edition.”

“Ain’t playin’ cards with you,” Mouse snorted and rolled her eyes. “Ya always win an’ then actually make me pay up.”

“How many kids won’t have somewhere to go?” Bill asked seriously. “How many of you are going to just come here or some other place for a quick afternoon meal and then not even celebrate?”

Mouse looked at him and saw how serious he was, so she started listing off the fellas she knew had families and would be going home with them. There were a fair few, including Davey and Les, that wouldn’t be around. It never really bothered her, though. They made sure to celebrate Christmas and Easter in the lodging house but nothing else ever really stuck. No one had enough money to do a real Thanksgiving dinner and they all usually went out in different groups on New Years, swiping booze and celebrating in the park or with another borough. “So there’s pro’lly gonna be a buncha us hangin’ around. It ain’t that biga deal ‘round here.”

“You should come to my family’s dinner,” he said. 

She couldn’t help it; Mouse busted out laughing, hands wrapping around her middle as she shook with mirth. “Come ta’ _your_ dinner. Right. That’s a good one.”

“I’m not kidding. You’re family too.”

“I ain’t _their_ family,” she shot back. “I’m _yours_ but not theirs and I ain’t never gonna be theirs. Ain’t wanna be either.”

“Hey, that’s not fair. My brothers are good guys.”

“Yeah? How’d they take it when ya told ‘em ya had a sister?” Bill’s silence was more than enough confirmation that he hadn’t told his ‘good guy’ brothers about her. “S’what I thought. I ain’t comin’ to ya fancy Thanksgivin’. What me an’ Race an’ the boys do is enough fer me.”

The idea of getting dressed up and going uptown to have dinner with the family that tossed her away made her sick to her stomach. She never wanted to meet William Randolph Hearst or Marion Davies. She didn’t need folks; she was happy with Race and Spot and the other newsies. They were all the family she needed.

And, yeah, it was really great getting to know Bill and she really thought he realized that she was never going to want to be part of his actual family, but today had showed her different. Meeting Annie was fine and doing things with Bill was fine but she didn’t want more than that. She’d agreed to meet Darcy but she figured that was different since they’d technically met before.

But there was no way she was going to get all dressed up and go break bread with the woman who abandoned her and the man who probably told her she had to.

“They’re your family too, Margaret,” Bill insisted. “The only one who isn’t is my mother and I’m sure she’ll love you.”

“They’re _not_ ,” she insisted. “And you ain’t ever gonna convince me they are. Family don’t pawn you off on someone else then bring ya to another _country_ an’ give ya up soon as ya get there. That ain’t family.”

“My brothers haven’t done anything to you,” he said hotly. “You can’t judge them based on …”

“Based on what? Based on the fact that yer father knocked up ‘is mistress and ya ended up with a sister ‘cause of it? A sister they don’t know about? And even if I _did_ agree ta’ meet ya brothers, I sure ain’t gonna do it at a damn family dinner,” she whispered-yelled at him. She felt a hand on her back and was grateful that Race hadn’t said anything but was there for her nonetheless.

“I want you to be part of my life, Margaret. And being part of my life means being part of the family. The _whole_ family.”

“Why ain’t what we’re doin’ good enough?” she asked, the sadness evident in her voice. She wanted to keep this relationship up with Bill but she didn’t ever want to meet any of the other Hearsts, and she couldn’t understand why Bill didn’t seem keen on respecting that.

“Because it feels like you’re a secret,” he answered and his honesty kind of startled her. “You’re my _sister_ , you’re the only daughter of William Randolph Hearst, and you should be treated as such.”

There was something in his tone that made her feel like he wasn’t just talking about a family dinner on Thanksgiving. It made her heart speed up, and not in the way spending time with Davey did. His words, coupled with his tone, made her nervous about what he really wanted to happen.

“Whaddya mean?” she asked against her better judgment.

“I mean you shouldn’t have to live the way you are,” he whispered, his eyes locked on her. “You shouldn’t be in a lodging house, selling newspapers every day just to survive. You shouldn’t be in boy’s clothes, counting pennies, asking for help to read. You should be in the finest clothes made by the best designers in the city. You should be in _school_. This isn’t the life you should be living as a Hearst.”

“I ain’t a Hearst,” she said flatly. “Your father made surea’ that.” Mouse put her spoon down and stood up. “Thanks for coming down for lunch today. Have a good Thanksgiving.”

Mouse looked down at Race, who looked right back up at her and took a bite of his sandwich. She rolled her eyes at him and left, ignoring Bill calling after her. She knew he was smart enough to know that he shouldn’t follow her, so she didn’t bother to look back, instead just putting her head down against the biting wind and heading back for the lodging house.

\--

“Well that didn’t go too good, did it?”

Bill shot a scathing look at the curly-haired kid sitting two chairs away. “If you just want to gloat …”

“I ain’t gloatin’, I’m just tellin’ it like it is. Didja really expect her to wanna go with ya? Ta’ where ya dad and her ma would be?” Racetrack asked him. He moved over into Margaret’s seat and started in on the remainder of her soup. “’Cause I coulda toldja that wasn’t a good idea.”

“You seemed awfully tight-lipped while it was happened,” he pointed out, eyebrow raised. “You had plenty of time to tell me to back off.”

“Hey, you’se two wanna be brother and sister, that’s fine by me, but I ain’t gettin’ involved in ya fights unless somebody drags me. That’s b’tween you’se two.”

“I just don’t understand,” Bill sighed, picking the bread on his plate apart. “I thought everyone wanted a family, everyone wanted to be with family on holidays.”

“They do,” Race acknowledged. “But what ya don’t understand is that she _has_ a family that she spends the holidays with. Me an’ Spot, the other fellas.” He rubbed at his jaw and shrugged. “We’s the family she chose and you’re askin’ her ta’ go spend a holiday with a family that _didn’t_ choose her. Hell, they chose _not_ ta’ be a family wi’ her. Ya gotta understand that ain’t somethin’ that’s gonna come around easy.”

“I just want to share a holiday with her,” he said quietly. “As a family.”

Race watched him for a second while he rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “I don’t think it’s gonna happen if ya holiday’s gonna be wi’ ya father,” Race said and Bill could tell he was being honest. “And I ain’t gonna help ya get ‘er ta’ do it either. That’s gotta be her choice. An’ I don’t want you pushin’ ‘er on it either.”

Something about Race’s statement irked Bill. Who did this kid think he was? He had no right talking to _William Randolph Hearst, Junior_ like that. With the snap of his fingers – or one phone call, as it was – he could make sure this kid never got another job in newspapers for the rest of his life. He could make this kid’s life a living hell.

And yet, he knew he never would. Not only would that make him just as bad as his father and Joseph Pulitzer, but it would destroy his relationship with Margaret. Whether he liked it or not, he would always come second to Racetrack when it came to who Margaret trusted and who she would listen to.

“I won’t stop inviting her to family events,” he said finally, knowing the kid was waiting for him to either fight back or let it drop. “She’s family and she deserves to be there. If she wants to be,” he clarified when Race opened his mouth again.

“Ya can ask, but if she says no, ya gonna drop it,” Race warned. “Mouse don’t give a lotta chances. Ya seen what happened t’day. She won’t stay near as long next time.”

Bill nodded and looked down to his destroyed lunch. “I don’t want to push her too far,” he said softly, “but I want her to know that she’s wanted." 

“By _you_ ,” Race pointed out. “Just ‘cause you wann’er there don’t mean ya dad or ya ma does. Or ya brothers.” The kid rubbed at the back of his neck again. “I donno, Bill. I think maybe if ya wanna spend holidays wi’ ‘er, ya gonna haveta do it here. Or wherever she goes. Least for a while. Maybe one day she’ll wanna go wi’ ya uptown but …” He trailed off with a shrug.

It hurt to realize that Race was probably right. The kid knew Margaret better than anyone and if he was willing to share some insight rather than just let Bill continue to hang himself, it had to mean that he thought things would work out.

Bill wouldn’t accept anything else.

“Look, s’gettin’ close ta’ distribution time. Ya gonna be good here?”

“Yeah,” Bill agreed with a nod. When Race reached for his pocket, he shook his head. “I got it. I caused the … Margaret leaving. It’s the least I can do.”

Race looked like he was going to protest but relented, pulling his hand from his pocket and offering it. Bill shook his hand with a small smile, glad he hadn’t fractured the tentative friendship he’d formed with his sister’s best friend. “We’ll be here ‘round one on Thanksgivin’. If ya can get away,” Race told him before nodding and shoving his hands into his pockets as he headed for the door.

Bill nodded, though he knew Race couldn’t see him, and smiled again. Maybe he would be able to sneak out for a bit. Margaret wasn’t ready to be part of his family, but he was more than willing to do whatever it took to prove he wanted to be part of hers. 

\--

“Hiya, Mouse!”

She turned around, a smile on her face, to see Les scurrying towards her, hand on his hat to keep it on his head. “Hiya, Squirt. Didn’t know you was comin’ back for the evenin’.”

“Davey asked if we could and mom said we could so long as we didn’t stay out too late so we’re only gonna get a few papers but we still get to come.” 

Mouse looked up to see Davey standing back a few feet, hands in his pockets and a little smile on his face. She couldn’t help but return it.

They hadn’t really talked about when they went out with Bill and the others to the art show, but things were definitely different between them. There were more looks, more smiles, and a lot more blushing. They didn’t hold hands again but when they were in a crowd, they let their hands brush against each other’s and once in a while Davey hooked his pinky finger around hers. It wasn’t a lot but it was enough for her. With all of the changes that were going on in her life, she didn’t think she needed to add a label to whatever was happening between her and Davey.

“That’s good. Pro’lly gonna have a good headline t’night with that boat hittin’ the dock down at the Battery.” 

“Yeah!” Les cheered enthusiastically. “Heya, Al! What’s a good call for the boat crash?” he asked as he skipped away and over to the other newsie.

“I never seen nobody so excited ta’ be a newsie,” she said with a smile as she approached Davey. “Maybe if he stays short he can make a career of it.” 

Davey laughed and nodded, meeting her in the middle. “He’d probably do it if he could. He really likes being a newsie. He really doesn’t wanna go back to school.”

“Any word on that yet?” she asked, trying to sound casual. “With your dad?”

Davey shook his head. “He’s healed now. I don’t think he can do everything he could at the factory but he’s healthy and ready to get back to work. He’s hoping by Christmas.”

Mouse nodded. “That’s good. I’m sure it’ll be good for ya family when he goes back.”

“And then me and Les go back to school. Probably next term.” 

Her head snapped up to meet his eyes. “You decided to go back?”

Davey shrugged. “Well, sort of. It was a family decision. I’ll have to take a test to see if I can stay in the same class or if I gotta stay in the class lower but … I think I can probably pass the test.”

She smiled. “You still don’t sound like you’re excited to go back to school.”

“I’m not,” he said and Mouse knew it was the truth. “But it’s the right thing to do. And once I graduate, I can get a better paying job and really help my family out, y’know?” 

“Yeah,” she agreed. “It’s good that you’re gonna go.” She rubbed the back of her neck, a nervous tick she was sure she picked up from Race. “Maybe, uh, once ya do, you can come back and visit? Maybe, uh, help me with my readin’?”

She had no idea if he wanted to keep coming back after he left for school again. Les would, she was sure of it, but Davey might make different friends and meet different girls and put all of the newsies, including her, behind him.

“I’ll definitely be back,” he told her with a nod. “We might still sell on weekends, if our homework ain’t too much. And, I mean …” He turned pink and Mouse smiled. “I got a pretty good reason to come back even if I ain’t sellin’.”

“Good,” she grinned. “Ya ready ta’ hit the streets? Gonna be a good headline.”

Davey hummed and nodded towards the distribution window. As they walked, she took a minute to observe him. He was tall, much taller than her, and lean. He was a lot more relaxed than he’d been when he first started, tonight not even wearing a vest over his thick shirt. She wondered if he had a jacket to wear or if that was a casualty of a growth spurt between last year and this and his father losing his job. His nose was larger than average and his ears were too but it suited him and she thought she wouldn’t like him as much if he looked any different. It made her stomach flip when she realized she liked everything about him just as he was.

His hand swung next to hers, lightly touching their pinky fingers together on every pass. She wasn’t sure what exactly compelled her to do it, especially since she absolutely was not ready to have a conversation about it, but the next time his hand swung back, she turned her hand and threaded her fingers through his. She knew anyone who was looking would see it but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She liked him and he liked her and they could hold hands if they wanted to.

Davey looked down to her and gave her a startled smile, before he relaxed and swung their hands slightly as they made their way to the back of the line to pick up their papers. “You sure?”

“Mmm,” she hummed, leaning against the wall while Race haggled with Weasel, just like every time.

“Davey! Can I have a dime so I can get my own papers?” Les asked as he skipped up. His eyes moved down to their joined hands and he smiled widely before holding out his hand. “Please?”

Davey dug into his pocket with his free hand and flipped the coin to his little brother, chuckling as the kid looked at their linked hands again and then skipped off to stand with Smalls to wait for their turn to buy papers.

“Think he’ll sell twenty in time for you two to get home before curfew?” she asked as they moved up in the line.

“I think he’ll sell his twenty before I sell half my ten,” Davey laughed. “He’s young, short and cute. Can’t beat that.”

“I donno,” she said, her voice just loud enough to carry up to him, “I think his brother might have the edge on onea’ those three.”

Davey turned pink again and Mouse smiled. She decided she might have to make it her mission to cause him to blush as many times as possible.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a trigger warning for a brief panic attack in this chapter. It's in the first section and, in my opinion, very mild.

“Mouse! Rich kid’s here ta’ see ya!”

Smiling, Margaret jumped from her bunk and padded down the stairs. She and Bill had been doing better after he stopped trying to get her to join his family.

Christmas came and went without even the vaguest hint of asking her to join the Hearsts. He’d come down to the lodging house the day before Christmas Eve, bringing with him nice gifts for her and Race and some general needs – blankets, socks, that sort of thing – for the rest of the boys. She supposed he and Katherine spoke before they gave them their gifts, since Jack’s girlfriend had gifted long underwear, pants and even some sturdier shirts for all of the kids. 

The strike had changed all of their lives for the better. Sure, they still lived penny to penny, pape to pape, but they were stronger than before. They had each other, they had the other boroughs, and now they had a Pulitzer and Hearst. Honestly, most of the kids in that lodging house, including her and Race, had never had it better.

When she got to the bottom of the stairs, she stopped short. Sure, there was a well-dressed young man standing just inside the door of the lodging house, but it definitely wasn’t her brother. Instead, it was the other boy who was friends with Katherine and helped the night they printed the Banner.

“Ah, Margaret. I see your, uh, colleague was able to locate you,” the young man – _Darcy_ , she thought – said. “He wasn’t sure you would be here.”

She gave him a stilted smile and started tugging on her fingers while she shifted on her feet. “Hi.”

He smiled in return, though his was warmer than hers was. “Hello. I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Darcy Reid,” he introduced, his hand extended towards hers.

“Mouse,” she said, shaking his hand once before pulling her own back and wringing it with her other. “What – um. What’re you doin’ here?”

“Ah, yes, I apologize.” He tugged at his jacket and smiled. “Bill is sick. I know you two were planning to meet in the coming days, but he won’t be able to make it.” 

Frowning, Mouse crossed her arms. “We ain’t s’posed ta’ meet up for three days,” she told him. “How’s he know he ain’t gonna be better?”

Looking uncomfortable, Darcy’s eyes darted around before settling on a space just over Mouse’s right shoulder. “It’s taking a toll on him. He’s quite weak.” He cleared his throat. “His physician believes he’s got pneumonia.”

Mouse felt her legs weaken as she leaned against the wall behind her. She didn’t know much about diseases but she knew the names of the big ones and pneumonia was one of them.

“What – uh. What exactly is that?”

“It’s a lung infection,” Darcy said as he stepped closer. “He has some fluid in his lungs, he’s got a fever, he’s having some trouble breathing. His physician said it’s not bad enough to warrant going to the hospital yet, but he’s going to reevaluate Bill in a couple of days.”

Mouse pressed her back against the wall and she couldn’t stop the tears from forming in her eyes. Darcy was nothing but a blur now, and Mouse found her breath coming quickly and painfully.

_He’s going to die. I just got a brother and now he’s going to die. He’s leaving me too._

She vaguely saw Darcy come closer then heard him call for someone, though his voice was dull and muffled. Her vision swam, though it wasn’t with tears this time, and she felt like she wasn’t going to be able to hold herself up for much longer.

“Hey, hey, hey, Mouse,” a voice said, though it was muffled like Darcy’s was. She felt hands on her arms and Race’s face clarified in her vision. “Mouse. Come back ta’ me. Eyes here. C’mon.”

She blinked several times in order to force her eyes to focus on the only person she’d ever had who didn’t leave her. With a racing heart, she threw herself into his arms and held on tight. She wasn’t one for hugs or general affection, aside from the newfound handholding and occasional hug with Davey, but in that moment, all she wanted and needed was for Race to wrap his arms around her and hold her tight.

Thankfully, he did what she silently begged for without her having to actually ask him to. He pulled her against his chest and murmured nonsense into her ears. At first, it was just noises, then consoling words. She could tell he was running out of things to say and he was getting a little fidgety, but she wasn’t ready to let go yet. Obviously understanding that, Race continued to hold her, his murmured words of reassurance morphing into funny stories. When he mentioned the time Spot fell off the dock fully dressed because a gull flew a bit too close, she huffed a small laugh and pulled back.

“Sorry,” was the first thing she could think to say. She was embarrassed by her behavior and still a little breathless with fear.

“No need,” Race replied, loosening his grip on her and steeping away. “Ya good now?”

She wasn’t, not by a long shot, but she nodded anyway because she didn’t think she needed his body to hold her up anymore. She could feel the ground solid beneath her feet for the first time in what felt like hours, and her knees were locked and holding steady. Mouse’s heart was racing and she could hear her pulse pounding in her ears but she was pretty sure she wasn’t going to lose it again.

“Yeah,” she finally croaked. “I’m good.”

“Wha’ happened?” Race asked as he took her by the wrist and tugged her outside. He nodded for her to sit on the steps of the lodging house and after she did, he sat beside her. She was peripherally aware of Darcy silently leaning against the front door, his eyes on his feet. The part of her who was angry with him for bringing such terrible news hoped that someone opened the door and her brother’s best friend fell on his ass. The other parts of her were too busy trying to focus on Race to care.

“Bill’s sick,” she told him, the words tasting sour in her mouth. “Real sick. His doc said …” she looked up to Darcy, her brain still fuzzy and trying to recall which disease he’d told her, before turning back to Race. “His doc said it was likely pneumonia. He’s got water in his lungs.”

Race blinked at her a few times then took her hand. “I’m sorry, Mouse. But, hey, he’s got a doc, right? S’a good thing. Ain’t like if it happened ta’ one’a us.” 

Mouse looked up at Darcy, a frown on her lips. “He’s a good doc, right? The one what’s tryna help Bill?”

“The best,” Darcy assured her, his chin high and his voice confident. “There’s no better care to be had in the whole of New York. If Bill can be cured, this doctor is the one who can do it.”

“If?” she asked, her voice shaking. “There’s a …”

“It ain’t gonna happen,” Race jumped in, pulling her attention and meeting her eyes. She could tell he wanted to shoot Darcy a venomous look, maybe get up and give him a solid punch in the mouth, but he stayed with her anyway.

_At least when Bill dies, I’ll still have Race. He’s not sick. He’s not leaving me. He’d never leave me._

She nodded because she knew he wanted her to. The biting cold of late December was cooling the heat in her cheeks but her episode a few minutes prior, while now faded, had left a headache to press against the back of her eyes. All she wanted was to get in bed, close her eyes, and wake up to find out that this was all a terrible dream and that Bill would be coming by in three days for lunch.

The looks on Race and Darcy’s faces told her she wasn’t being very realistic.

There was a terrible, heavy feeling in her gut, telling her that Bill’s condition could be very serious and that she might never see him again. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d know someone who died from pneumonia. Street kids got sick and died all the time. It was just a fact of life, especially in the winter.

Her stomach twisted and she felt like she was going to be sick.

 _No_ , she told herself harshly. _You’ll see Bill again. Your brother is going to be fine._

Unfortunately, no matter what her heart tried to force her to believe, her brain continued to bring forward mental snapshots of boys and girls she knew from the lodging house or another territory or a sewing factory, coughing, choking, then just gone. When Bill’s smiling face flashed in her brain, the words were coming out before she could stop them.

“I want to go see him.”

\--

“Mouse, is ya sure ya wanna do this? S’likely his folks’ll be there. Least his ma will. Thought ya didn’t …”

“Don’t needa tell ‘em who I am, Racetrack,” Mouse spat back at him, her jaw set in a way that let him know exactly how close she was to losing it again. He wanted to support her but he thought this was a really bad idea. Bill’s folks were probably already on edge because their son was sick, and now they would have to deal with Reid showing up with two street kids?

There was no way this ended good.

“What’re you gonna tell ‘em then?” Race asked her. She needed to have a plan and he needed to know what it was. If he didn’t, there was a real chance that he could say something that she didn’t want said and the whole thing would blow up in their faces. “Ain’t like ya can pretend you’se one’a his society friends or nothin’.”

“I don’t know,” she huffed, stomping a little ahead of him. “I’ll figure it out. I got time.”

“Not much,” Reid supplied. “Even with walking, it shouldn’t take terribly long to get to the Hearst penthouse. Perhaps we should discuss exactly what we want the story to be before we get close. That should give us all some time to memorize it." 

“Just say he’s felt bad fa’ me an’ he didn’t show up ta’ buy a pape these last couple’a days so I got worried and bugged ya ‘til ya agreed ta’ take me,” Mouse said harshly. “Not too hard for you’se guys, I hope.”

“Hey. Look, I know you’se hurtin’, but ya don’t gotta take it out on us. We’s the ones going with ya ta’ see Bill,” Race told her, his voice stern. “Ya ain’t gotta do it alone but ya gotta stop actin’ out against us or ya gonna.” 

He watched as his best friend deflated, her face falling and tears flooding her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m just …” He knew she wouldn’t say she was scared, not out loud, but he heard it all the same.

“I know.” He wrapped an arm around her and kept walking, not letting her lose her nerve or stop to keep apologizing. “And it’s gonna be okay.”

“We’re gonna miss the evenin’ edition,” she said quietly. “Did you remember ta’ pay for t’night?”

“Yeah,” he answered, smiling a little. “An’ Mush is gonna tell Davey where we went so’s ya fella don’t get too worried.”

“He’ll worry anyway,” she responded, lifting a shoulder in a shrug. “He’s that kinda guy.”

He hummed in response, then grinned a little. He was pretty sure Mouse could use the distraction. “Speakin’ of, ya ain’t said thank you yet.”

“Thank you?”

“Ya welcome,” Race chuckled, proud of his little joke.

“You’re an idiot. What’m I thankin’ ya for?” Mouse asked.

“Gettin’ sick so’s you and Davey could fall in love.” He drew the last word out as if he was singing it, nudging Mouse in the side and smiling widely. “Wish I’d known you was really that sweet on ‘em. I woulda faked it for ya so he could go anyway.”

“Shuddup,” she groaned, shoving at him with her hip. “That ain’t … wasn’t gonna …”

He laughed outright as Mouse turned bright red and shoved fully away from him. It was funny, seeing her all worked up. She’d had a little crush on Spot when they were younger and he was pretty sure she had a thing for Specs for about ten minutes a couple years ago, but this thing with Davey was different. She was protective over it and it made him wonder why.

Then again, it was probably because she knew him well enough to know he was going to tease her about it.

“It’s okay, y’know. To like somebody. Ya ain’t gotta keep it a secret or nothin’. Loads’a fellas got somebody.”

“Do you?”

Race didn’t expect the question, especially since Mouse knew he did. But it wasn’t his best friend who’d asked it. Reid had been quiet for a long time and it kind of shocked him to hear that _this_ was what he was interested in talking about.

He shared a look with Mouse before shrugging. “Sorta. Not really somethin’ I talk about though.”

Reid nodded, obviously understanding that he wasn’t going to get anything more on the subject. “We’re only a few blocks away now. Do you think you’re ready?”

Mouse nodded and brought her hands up to try to tame her wind-blown, unruly hair. “Probably look terrible. Think they’ll even let us in?”

“I’ll see that they do,” Reid told him, his face serious. “I won’t let them keep you away.” His second statement was for Mouse and Race felt himself fill with gratitude for this guy he didn’t know and who didn’t know him or Mouse, but was willing to make sure they got in to see Bill.

“Thank you,” Mouse said quietly.

When Reid came to a stop, it was in front of a huge apartment building. “They’re in the penthouse,” he informed them before tugging on his jacket to remove any wrinkles and heading for the doorman.

Race shared a look with Mouse before following him up towards the entrance.

“My friends and I are here to see Mr. Hearst, Junior,” Reid told the man, looking like he belonged there. And he did, Race supposed, because he was the son of a newspaper owner too.

The doorman looked down his nose as Mouse and him, lowering his voice to say something to Reid that neither of them could make out. The other guy looked back at them, then stiffened his shoulders, hardened his face, and furiously whispered something back to the man who was in charge of letting them in. It made Race’s stomach flip to think that Reid wouldn’t be able to deliver and they would be turned away.

“Anthony, Margaret,” Reid called, which startled him. He had no idea how Reid knew his name, probably Bill telling him or something, but he hadn’t heard it in such a long time it actually took him a second to accept that the guy was calling him.

Ducking his head, he nodded and followed, nudging Mouse to walk in front of him. The doorman let them in and directed Reid to the elevators, though he ignored the older man. It was obvious Reid had been here before and didn’t need help from the guy who was probably glaring at their backs.

Once in the elevator, Mouse sagged against the wall. He knew she was nervous and he wanted to do something to help but he didn’t know how. In their lives, most kids who got sick real bad didn’t come back from it. Bill had a good doctor, Reid said he was the best, and Race thought there was a good chance he wouldn’t die. He also knew Mouse wasn’t so sure. She’d seen a lot of kids get sick, and with no money for medicine, die because of it. She was probably worried that was what was going to happen with Bill.

He doubted they would be in an elevator about to go into his penthouse if she thought she would see him again otherwise. It hurt his heart to think she felt that way. He wanted what was best for her, he loved her, and knowing she was in pain made him feel sick to his stomach.

It also made him want to go to Brooklyn and forget about all of this for a while.

When the elevator made a noise and stopped, Reid handed a few coins to the kid operating it and led them off. “Bill’s here and his mother is too. Mr. Hearst isn’t home.” He cleared his throat. “The doorman wouldn’t answer me about Ms. Davies.”

Mouse stiffened beside him but squared her shoulders anyway. She was stronger than she gave herself credit for and he was proud of her for being here now. He knew she was scared of what she would see when she got into her brother’s room but she was going in anyway because she was more scared of what would happen if she didn’t.

“He’s down the hall, make a left and then all the way down on the right. I’ll run interference with Mrs. Hearst and anyone else who may be here. You two go ahead.”

Mouse watched Reid for a moment before reaching out and putting a hand on his shoulder and forcing herself to smile. “Thank you." 

Race met Reid’s eyes and gave him a nod before following Mouse down the hall.

\-- 

Mouse could hear the coughing as she turned down the second corridor. It was wet and it sounded like it hurt. Involuntarily, her hand lifted to press against her chest, easing a phantom ache. She’d had bad coughs before but nothing like that. Race slipped his hand into hers and while it definitely helped give her a little more courage, it did nothing to soothe her fears.

_That cough sounds really bad._

She paused outside his door and looked up at Race. “Can you come in with me?”

He gave her a smile and knocked his hip against hers. “O’course. Wouldn’t letcha do it alone anyways.”

Slowly, Mouse pushed open the door. If Bill was asleep, she didn’t want to wake him and if he wasn’t, she didn’t want to scare him. Bill coughed wetly again, followed by a moan, and Mouse’s heart twisted in her chest. He sounded terrible, worse than some of the kids she’d known, and she wasn’t sure if that was okay since he was older and stronger or it was just going to lead to him being in more pain or dying quicker. “Bill?” she called softly, stepping closer.

Bill inhaled, opened his mouth to speak, and then started coughing again. He held his hand out to her and she walked closer, tugging Race along with her. As much as she wanted to, she didn’t hold his hand. It was dangerous enough for them to be in the same room as Bill, but she needed to see him and she needed him to know she was there. “Darcy said you’re sick.” He gave her a wry look and she couldn’t help but chuckle. “Okay, that’s fair.” Her smile fell. “He said it’s bad.”

Bill took a deep, shuttering breath, and nodded. “I’ll be – okay,” he said shakily, his voice thick. He pulled in another ragged breath. “Promise.”

Mouse felt Race stiffen and she knew why. Squeezing his hand, she turned and shook her head a bit. There was no way she would be able to hear Race tell Bill not to make promises he can’t keep.

“You’d better,” she said softly. “I just … I mean …” Bill tried to smile, she thought it was in encouragement. It grounded her a little so she was able to get out, “I’m not ready to not have you in my life anymore.”

Bill coughed again and it struck her at how much pain it looked like he was in. The fit lasted less than a minute but she knew it wiped him out. He would be asleep soon, she figured, and she hoped he would be able to get some rest. “I’m not – going – anywhere,” he breathed.

“Better not,” she whispered, wishing she could hug him but knowing it could get her sick too if she got too close. “We’re gonna let you rest. Listen ta’ the doctor, yeah? Whatever it takes.”

Her brother nodded as his eyes slipped shut, another string of coughs wracking his body before he settled down. “Let’s go,” she said softly, leading Race out of the room. She heard Darcy talking to someone and decided she didn’t want to know who it was or what it was about, so she just called for the elevator.

“He don’t look as bad as I thought he would,” Race said once they were inside the elevator and headed down. “I think he’s gonna be okay.”

“I hope so,” she said quietly. “I’m just getting used to him.” It was a joke wrapped up in a truth that made her heart clench.

“Me too,” her best friend grinned. “And, I mean, I got a birthday soon. Wouldn’t mind ‘nother present from ‘im.”

Laughing, Mouse shoved him out of the elevator as it reached the bottom floor. “I really don’t know why I put up with you at all." 

“Ya love me, Mouse. Ya just love me.”

\--

“Have you heard from Darcy lately?” Davey asked as they sat on a bench in Central Park. “About Bill?” 

Mouse shook her head and took a bite of her apple. “Not for a couple’a days. Last I heard Bill was doin’ a bit better. No more fever. Less coughing.”

“That’s good. It sounds like he’s going to come through this okay.”

Mouse nodded. “Yeah, s’what Race said too. It’s just hard not goin’ back ta’ see for myself, y’know? But the first time was such a big risk, don’t wanna do it again. Just in case, y’know?” 

Davey hummed, she assumed in agreement, and took a bite of his own apple. “I’m sure if anything changes either Darcy or Katherine’ll let you know.”

“Yeah, Kath said she hasn’t been by ‘cause she don’t wanna get sick an’ come to the lodgin’ house an’ get one’a us sick. Too much of a risk.” Mouse scratched at her nose and frowned. “These mittens is warm but don’t help when ya gotta itch.”

Her eyes crossed as she rubbed her mitten-covered fingers against her nose, and she jumped when she felt skin and dull nails replace her hand. “Better?” he asked with a smile, pulling his hand back and replacing his glove.

“You’re so weird,” she laughed, leaning against him and resting her head on his shoulder. It felt so good to be able to be with Davey, just the two of them, and not have to worry about what the fellas were saying. Race said it was a right of passage or something to be teased but she didn’t want all that attention and she knew Davey didn’t either. “S’a good thing I like it.”

Davey smiled and nodded. “A very good thing considering how much I like you.”

She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks and she wished it wasn’t such a mild January day. If it was just a little colder, she would have been able to blame what she was sure was a significant blush on the wind. As it was, Davey blushed too, and she found it way too endearing for her own good. “S’that a fact?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, biting into his apple again.

“Good. ‘Cause, y’know, I like you too.”

Another smile from the boy next to her. “Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moana reference ftw.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill was an educated man. That wasn’t an opinion, it was a fact. He’d gone to the finest schools and had the best education money could buy. His father had made sure of that. He’d also been at or close to the top of every one of his classes.
> 
> All of that to say, educated didn’t necessarily mean smart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone still sticking around - thanks for not giving up on me. It's been a helluva year so far but I think I'm getting back into the swing of things. For now, at least.

Bill was an educated man. That wasn’t an opinion, it was a fact. He’d gone to the finest schools and had the best education money could buy. His father had made sure of that. He’d also been at or close to the top of every one of his classes.

All of that to say, educated didn’t necessarily mean smart.

If Bill had been paying attention, he would have seen it coming. The bitter cold of winter, and his trying bout with pneumonia, had melted away to the slightly warmer temperatures of early spring. He and Darcy had taken to spending more time with the newsies, Annie tagging along occasionally as well, and Bill had fallen into a level of comfort that had allowed him to let down his guard.

It was that comfort, that lack of vigilance, that sent his life spinning end over end.

He was in the park with Margaret, Race and Davey, chatting idly before the other three had to get back to selling. It was a busy Saturday afternoon and the weather was good so there were plenty of people milling about around them, none of them causing the newsies or him to take a second look.

“William?”

Frowning, Bill looked up and towards the direction of the voice. There was a group of girls walking by so he didn’t see the source until it was too late.

Race, Davey and Margaret turned as well and the second that the voice spotted them, Bill’s world came to a screeching halt. “Father? What are you doing out here this time of day?”

His father ignored him, however, pushing through the crowd and standing right in front of them. Had he been in his right mind, he would have joined Race and Davey in trying to block his father from getting to Margaret. As it was, however, he was frozen in place, fear coursing through his body in sharp, painful waves.

“Who are you?” his father demanded as he easily swatted Race and Davey out of the way to stand in front of Margaret.

To her credit, Margaret transformed straight away, adopting the slight slump that he associated with Mouse. “Name’s Mouse,” she told him, her accent thicker – more like Jack’s – than usual. “Ya needa pape?”

His father narrowed his eyes, bending down to look closer at her. She didn’t move, even held her chin a little higher, and stared him down. It was a sight to behold. If he was a random passerby, he might assume that William Randolph Hearst had stepped out of his office to personally scold one of his employees.   The reality was much scarier and much more dangerous.

“I do not need a _pape_ ,” his father said as he blindly reached out to grab him by the sleeve and drag him next to Margaret. Davey and Race tried to push closer but the men his father had been walking with, employees of the paper, Bill now noticed, prevented them from doing so. “I need to know what the meaning of this is.”

“Donno whatcher talkin’ ‘bout, mister,” Mouse told his father – _their_ father. She looked like she was calm and collected but now that he was so close to her, he could feel that she was slightly shaking.

“Father,” he tried, but was silenced with a look and a hand that rose as a precursor to the strike that would likely follow. It didn’t, this time, but Bill kept his mouth shut, the whole time mentally berating himself for being such a coward.

“Listen, mister,” Race called from a few feet away, “donno what yer deal is but we ain’t doin’ nothin’ wrong.” 

“And we’ve really got to be going,” Davey added. “We’ve got to get back to The World to pick up the evening edition.”

“Where are you from?” William Senior asked Margaret, his eyes narrowed.

“Duane Street,” she answered, a self-assured grin on her face. “Work for The World.” 

“And before that?”

“Don’t remember,” she shrugged. “Been there so long with m’ brother s’like I always been there.”

“Your _brother_?” he father snapped, his eyes moving to look at him.

“Me,” Race called out. “So can we go now?”

William Senior narrowed his eyes and looked between him and Margaret again before finally releasing him and standing up straight. “Stop loitering,” he demanded. “And get back to work.” The final command was spat at him before his father and his advisors continued on their path through the park.

They all held their breath for a moment before Margaret finally breathed out, “That was close.”

Race and Davey moved to her side, the latter taking her hand and giving her a gentle smile. “That was some incredible acting. Medda should cast you in her next show.”

The three newsies chatted and carried on like nothing had happened, making him absently wonder how often they were stopped and interrogated by the upper class. He was disgusted when he realized it was probably to abuse or berate them for being in a place the rich person thought they shouldn’t be.

“Thought he was gonna grab me by the face and study me like a dead bug,” Margaret chuckled, reaching out and punching him in the arm. “C’mon, Billy! We done it! He seen us t’gether and he had no clue!”

Slowly, Bill shook his head. “I wish that were true,” he said softly. “But he had us figured out the moment he stood me next to you. It’s too close of a resemblance for him to have overlooked it. I’m positive he knows.”

“I – no way. He woulda said somethin’,” Margaret replied. “No way he coulda just faked believin’ me an’ Race an’ just left if he knew.”

“I’m so sorry, Margaret,” he said softly, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry but I’m positive.”

He watched his sister swallow and reach her free hand out for Race to take and it hurt him more than it probably should. _He_ was her brother and _he_ was the one who was in this mess with her but she still went to Race and now Davey for comfort and support, leaving him to fend for himself.

Maybe it served him right at this point. 

“That means we gotta get outa here,” Race said, his eyes darting around. It took Bill a moment to realize he was making sure none of his father’s men were hidden, waiting to grab them when they disbursed. “Fast.”

“And probably in different directions,” Davey added, his voice hard and concerned.

“They won’t do anything. Not that there’s any of them around,” he added quickly. “He’s going to – it’s not going to be about you. Uh, yet. First it’s going to be me. And then Ms. Davies.” Bill cleared his throat. “Unless he knew. And then – then it’ll just be me.”

“What’re ya gonna say?” Margaret asked, her voice soft and nervous.

“I don’t know,” Bill admitted. “But probably the truth.”

Racetrack swore and Davey stepped closer to her and Bill couldn’t blame either of them. He would probably do the same if he were in their shoes. “But Race is right. You three should get out of here. I’ll send word with Katherine as soon as I can.” 

Margaret pulled away from Race and Davey and wrapped him in a hug. “Tomorrow,” she demanded into his ear. “If he talks ta you tonight, make sure ya send word tomorrow.” She pulled back and met his eyes. “Please.”

Bill nodded – he really had no other choice – and then stepped back. “Be careful,” he pleaded. “And get word to me if there’s any trouble, okay? And if you think someone’s following you …”

“Then we go to Brooklyn. They’ll either walk headfirst into Spot Conlon or realize it ain’t a good idea ta follow us like that,” Race finished, grinning slightly. “Ain’t our first scrape. You take carea yaself, okay?”

Bill nodded and shook hands with Race and then David before turning and walking back uptown, knowing his sister and her friends were on their way back to the safety of the lodging house and hoping everything didn’t explode before he saw them all again.

\--

“I haven’t spoken to Bill in days,” Katherine said as she sat on the steps of the lodging house with Jack, Davey and Race. “I’m not sure what’s going on beyond what he told me that first night. Mr. Hearst knew immediately who Mouse was, he knew that he had a child by Ms. Davies. She’s supposed to be in France,” she added softly. “With Ms. Davies’ sister.”

“Mouse never mentioned that. France or whatever,” he said, lifting a hand to rub at the back of his neck. “Maybe she didn’t know.”

Jack reached over and put a hand on his shoulder. “D’you remember when you was little?”

Race shook his head. “Nah. Not much. Some. But Mouse’s been kicked ‘round since she’s a kid so it prolly all blends together.”

“As much as my father and I don’t get along, I can’t imagine my life without him,” Katherine said quietly. “Without either of my parents.”

Davey nodded along but didn’t say anything. Race could tell his friend was concerned that Mouse hadn’t come back from selling yet and, if he was honest with himself, he was a little nervous too. “Hey, uh, Jack. Who ya say Mouse was with today?”

“Uh, pretty sure she was with Specs. He needed an extra body down at the ferry terminal. Said they’s been lotsa folks comin’ in lately.”

Specs. That was good. Specs could fight if he needed to and run if it came to that. Plus he wasn’t the kind to put up a fuss when someone said they needed to get out of someplace. If Mouse saw Hearst and told Specs to run, he would do it, no questions asked.

“I think we need to tell the other fellas,” Davey said after a minute. “About Hearst and Margaret.” He scratched at his cheek and squinted up at the sun. “Just in case he comes looking for her or sends someone after her. We still don’t know what he’s gonna do and, I mean, better to have thirty newsboys ready for it and able to help if she needs it.” 

Jack nodded, “We can tell ‘em tonight.”

“We should let her,” Race said. “Ain’t our secret ta tell. I mean, she’d soak you good for just blurtin’ it all out. She’s proud. Don’t want nobody knowin’ she’s in trouble.”

“We don’t even know if she _is_ in trouble,” Katherine cut in. “I would think Mr. Hearst would have made a move already if he was going to. Maybe he’s content to leave her on the streets.” She frowned. “That sounded awful.”

“She’s better off here,” Jack cut in with a shrug. “She’s got a family who wants her. One that’s gonna protect ‘er.”

“I still can’t believe they just gave her away like that. And the lady they gave her to – her goddamn _aunt_ – just gave her away too,” Race spat. “’Less she had as smart a mouth then as she has now,” he added after a prolonged silence. Anything to cut the tension.

“I just really wish she would come back,” Jack said quietly. “Can’t protect my kids if I don’t know where they’re at.” 

“We can go down to the terminal and get her and Specs,” Davey suggested. “But she probably won’t be happy about it.”

“Sun’s almost down anyways. All the rich folks’re gonna be headed home for supper.” Race looked up to Davey. “Don’t you got homework to do?”

That earned him a smack on the shoulder. “I just wanna check in with Margaret before I head home. Plus Les is supposed to be working on spelling with some of the younger kids in there, so I have an excuse to stay later,” Davey said, a self-satisfied grin on his face.

“Guys … is that them?” Katherine asked, standing quickly.

Race stood too, looking in the direction Katherine was, and swallowing. Mouse and Specs were running towards them at full tilt. “Mouse?”

“I gotta keep goin’,” she called out. “I gotta lose ‘em. There’s five or so, dressed like the fellas Pulitzer and Weasel hired!”

As Mouse kept running, Specs stopped, bending to put his hands on his knees. “Hearst sent some guys to grab Mouse,” he panted. “We’ve been on the run for … a long time. They ain’t stoppin’.”

Without wasting another second, Race turned and took off after Mouse. He didn’t see anyone chasing her and Specs but it wasn’t safe for her to stop at the lodging house; they had to get somewhere safe.

They had to get to Brooklyn.

\--

Mouse couldn’t slow down to let Race catch up but she knew he was coming with her. The only thing was, she had no idea where to go. They couldn’t go back to the lodging house because it was a dead end and she didn’t want the others to get pulled into it. She couldn’t go to Bill for obvious reasons and Davey’s place was out too. 

“Make a right!” Race called from behind her and she knew immediately what he was thinking.

“Turn a street before me sos we’re not together!” she called back.

She needed to keep him safe. This was her mess and she needed to deal with it on her own. She had no idea what Hearst was going to do to her but whatever it was, she didn’t want the only person who’s always been there for her to get caught up in it.

That’s why, as soon as she was sure he turned right, she turned left.

And then she stopped.

It didn’t take long for one of Hearst’s goons to find her and grab her. Mouse put up a token fight but didn’t escape like she could have. It would be better this way, she told herself. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life running and looking around corners and fighting to escape. Plus, she wanted to check on Bill. She hadn’t seen him since they’d been caught and her stomach twisted every time she thought about him and what his – their – father might have done to him.

The trip up to the Hearst penthouse seemed to take forever, thought Mouse knew it couldn’t have been more than thirty or forty minutes.

The doorman eyed them as they went in and she couldn’t help a satisfied smirk from crossing her lips when the man’s eyes went wide at the sight of her. If she hadn’t been slightly terrified, she might have given him a cheeky wave or something.

The pair was quiet as the elevator climbed up the building towards the penthouse. The kid operating it kept sneaking glances over at her but he wisely held his tongue. There was no need for him to earn a smack from the goon that was delivering her to one of the most powerful men in the city.

When the door opened, she was greeted by a woman in her late-20s or early-30s, tears in her eyes. “My sweet girl!” the woman cried before pulling her out of the elevator and into a tight hug. 

Instinctively, Mouse pushed away. “Who the hell are you?” she asked, backing up and running into the brick wall of a man who was standing between her and her only escape. “I don’t know you.”

The woman grabbed a handkerchief from seemingly nowhere and dabbed at her eyes. “No, I don’t suspect you do,” she said softly. “I don’t truly know you either. Only the nine months we spent together a long time ago.”

Mouse swallowed and shook her head, eyes wide. This had to be Miss Davies. This was the woman who Bill thinks is her mother.

She couldn’t speak, so she let her eyes wander over the woman in front of her. She looked modern, rich. She was young and beautiful with blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Mouse knew she looked nothing like the woman and part of her rejoiced. Maybe this was all some stupid mistake; maybe she and Bill just happened to look alike, some weird coincidence, and soon she would be able to go back to her normal life.

Though she knew Race was going to be furious with her when he found out what she did and was somewhat happy for the time between now and having to tell him.

“Oh,” she said finally. “Ya sure? I kinda … look nothin’ like you.”

“No,” Miss Davies said softly, “but you look so much like your father.”

“Certainly no mistaking that,” a deep voice said from her left. When Mouse looked, it was Mr. Hearst Senior, a resigned but seemingly uninjured Bill at his side. He mouthed that he was sorry but Mouse couldn’t respond because everyone’s eyes were on her.

“Wasn’t nice,” she said instead of greeting him. “Whatcha did. Chasin’ me an’ my friend.” 

Miss Davies looked over at him in shock but bowed her head when Hearst Senior shot her a scathing glare. “If you hadn’t run, they wouldn’t have had to chase you,” the man said calmly.

“If ya’d sent Bill ta get me, I wouldn’a run.”

“Margaret,” Bill hissed, shaking his head.

“What?” she asked, turning to him. “I ain’t scared’a him.” She turned back to Mr. Hearst. “That’s what ya want though, isn’t it? To scare me outa sayin’ anything about you and her and me?” The room was silent. “Cuz ya don’t gotta. I ain’t gonna say nothin’ s’long as ya let me keep seein’ Bill.”

“Hold on a moment. Are you saying as long as you and William are allowed to continue your friendship, you won’t speak to the press about your parentage?” Hearst asked, surprised. “That’s all?”

Mouse shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”

“And you’ll sign a contract?”

“William!”

All eyes in the room turned to Miss Davies, who was clutching her handkerchief to her chest, eyes wide and wet. Mouse had no idea what was going on, but when she looked back at Hearst, there was a hard glint in his eye. 

“Marion, go back to your reading, this doesn’t concern you,” he said dismissively. “Don’t you have rehearsal in the morning?”

“I do,” she answered, “but this is more important than that right now and it certainly does concern me. You’re not going to force our daughter to sign a contract in order to keep her silent. She’s _our daughter_.”

“No, she’s your sister’s daughter,” Hearst said. “That was the decision we made. What that woman did with the child was and is none of our business. Unfortunate the girl ended up in New York, thanks to your idiot sister, no doubt, but she’s still no child of mine. Or yours.”

Mouse didn’t expect the harsh words to hurt her but they did. They were like a physical blow, knocking her off balance as the words repeated in her head on an endless loop. She could see Miss Davies talking – maybe she was shouting – and Hearst half-listening, half-not, but she couldn’t hear anything but the rejection she had expected from day one.

“Stop,” she whispered, her hands coming up to cover her ears. “Just stop.” Her voice grew louder with every word until she was shouting at them to _stop, please stop_. The room grew quiet and Bill moved over to her, his eyes sad and concerned. “I want to go home,” she said, her voice low once more. “Please make them let me go home. This was a mistake.”

Bill nodded and wrapped his arm around her. “I’ll take you home. I’ll even stay tonight,” he promised. She didn’t watch him but she knew he turned back to look at his father and Miss Davies. “I certainly have no plans to be in this house for any longer than necessary.”

Mouse just nodded, quietly allowing Bill to lead her into the elevator. She kept her back to the room, not able to turn around to see her parents – or the folks who made her anyway – anymore. As the door closed, she thought she heard Miss Davies start to cry, but she wasn’t sure since she started to cry at the same time. 

\--

Bill and Margaret didn’t get more than three blocks before one of her friends found them. He was kind of glad it wasn’t Race, Davey or Jack, but he knew when the kid whistled loudly that it wouldn’t be long before one or all of them would show up.

A kid took off running and three or four blocks later, Race came tearing up the road and Bill could see the fight in him before he even got close enough to see his face.

“What the _hell_?” he shouted, skidding to a halt in front of them. “What the hell was ya dad thinkin’, kidnappin’ a kid?”

“Race,” Margaret said softly, shaking her head. “No.”

“Not now, Mouse. I gotta soak Hearst for lettin’ this happen to ya.” 

“It wasn’t him,” she said, still soft. It sounded like she was broken and it hurt his heart. His father had done this to her and it made Bill want to fight the man who gave him everything he had. “I let them catch me.”

Race whipped his head over to look at Margaret. “Whaddid ya just say?” he asked, eyes narrowing. “You – you _let_ them catch you?”

“I did,” she answered. “Didn’t wanna be runnin’ forever. And, y’know, was curious.” 

“Curious,” he said as he rolled his eyes. “Of course. But why didn’t ya let me come?”

Margaret was silent for a minute, eyes on her feet. “Didn’t know what they was gonna do ta me,” she admitted. “Didn’t want you gettin’ hurt if it wasn’t – if they –“ She trailed off with a shrug. “Don’t matter. Bill’s dad don’t want me anyway. Said Miss Davies couldn’t either, though seemed like she wanted ta at least know me a bit. Donno. Didn’t stick around.”

None of them spoke for a long moment before Bill finally broke the silence himself. “She wanted to go home,” he told Race. “I think she needs the familiarity of the lodging house. Of the newsies. Her-her family.”

Race didn’t say anything for a long time, head turned away. Bill could tell the younger boy was trying to find the words he wanted to say.

“Well, ya got Bill,” he said finally. “Don’t need me no more. Rather be with a Hearst, be my guest.” With one last look, Race turned and started walking away.

“Race,” Margaret called weakly. “Wait, Race. Please.”

Bill’s heart pounded as he waited for Race to stop and turn around, to come back and be with his best friend and walk with them back to the lodging house. It took several minutes for him to realize the younger boy was out of sight and not coming back.

Margaret was wiping at her eyes next to him and he gave her a second to compose herself before he turned to look at her. “Do you want to follow him?” he asked quietly.

“No,” she answered, her voice slightly wobbly but still stronger than he’d expected. She sounded resolute. “No, I want to go home.”

Bill nodded and held an arm out for her to start walking, falling in step beside her. “Home it is.”


	13. Chapter Thirteen

When Mouse told him to turn before her, he didn’t think twice. They’d run from Snyder enough times to know it was more likely they’d both make it through unscathed if they separated and met up closer to or at the bridge. Folks were harder to chase if they were split up. 

It took Race four blocks east and two north to realize Mouse wasn’t in sight. His heart dropped into his stomach and he ran as fast as he could back in the direction they’d come from, shouting her name as loud as he could. He stopped and asked folks he didn’t know if they’d seen her, all of them shrugging and carrying on.

_He’s got her_.

The thought made Race feel like he was going to be sick. He didn’t have time to waste, though. He had to hold out hope that she was just still running in another direction.

As much as it scared him to leave the area, just in case, he knew he would be able to cover more ground if he grabbed some of the other fellas and spread out. They could either find one of Hearst’s cronies or Mouse.

Part of Race wanted to storm up to the Hearst penthouse and rescue her but he knew there was no way he’d get into the building and the last thing he needed was to cause a scene and get arrested.   Sure, the Refuge didn’t exist anymore but jail did and he wasn’t going to find Mouse of he was locked up.

Running back to the lodging house winded him but he was still so worried that he barely acknowledged it. He told as many of the boys as he could that Mouse was nabbed and to spread out, head north, and to find him as soon as they caught sight of her or someone associated with Hearst or The Journal.

It took over an hour before Sniper came running up to him and told him where he’d seen Mouse and Bill. Relieved, he took off like a shot. Race knew he needed to get to his best friend and make sure she was okay. He also knew he needed to beat the pulp out of Hearst for letting Mouse get nabbed in the first place.

“What the _hell_?” he shouted as soon as he finally reached them. “What the hell was ya dad thinkin’, kidnappin’ a kid?” He was already clenching his fist, ready to bloody the rich boy’s mouth.

“Race,” Mouse said, her voice off. Sad. Defeated. “No.” 

He should have immediately turned his full attention to her but there was too much anger and adrenaline coursing through his veins. “Not now, Mouse. I gotta soak Hearst for lettin’ this happen to ya.”

“It wasn’t him,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. It was confusing and so unlike her. His eyes were still on Bill when she added, “I let them catch me.”

Race probably could have broken his neck with how fast he turned to face her. “Whaddid ya just say?” he asked in disbelief. There was no way he heard her right. “You – you _let_ them catch you?”

“I did,” she answered. “Didn’t wanna be runnin’ forever. And, y’know, was curious.” Her voice was stronger, a little more defiant, but still not the girl he knew.

“Curious,” he said as he rolled his eyes. “Of course.” That was definitely more like her. Something was still eating at him though. “But why didn’t ya let me come?”

Mouse didn’t answer right away and that heart-in-stomach feeling came back. “Didn’t know what they was gonna do ta me,” she admitted, almost shyly. “Didn’t want you gettin’ hurt if it wasn’t – if they –“ She trailed off, shrugging and still not looking at him. “Don’t matter. Bill’s dad don’t want me anyway. Said Miss Davies couldn’t either, though seemed like she wanted ta at least know me a bit. Donno. Didn’t stick around.”

A thousand feelings were washing over him all at once. He didn’t know which was strongest, which was right. He hurt all over and his brain felt like it was pounding while there was a heavy pressure behind his eyes. His vision was a little hazy as he tried to understand exactly what was going on.

Mouse wanted to go alone. But she wasn’t alone. She had Bill.

Bill had been there with her. 

Bill was her real brother and he was with her somewhere she didn’t want _him_ to be.

She had Bill.

She didn’t need him anymore.

All of that was echoing through his head when Bill spoke. “She wanted to go home. I think she needs the familiarity of the lodging house. Of the newsies. Her-her family.”

Family. Her family. But she’d left them, left _him_. She went to her other family. Family by blood. The painful words he’d thought just a moment ago came back, but this time they weren’t in his voice but her own.

_I have Bill. I don’t need you anymore._ They grew louder and louder until he had to say something to make them stop. “Well, ya got Bill,” he said finally, too harsh for it to sound like it was his own voice, even to him. “Don’t need me no more. Rather be with a Hearst, be my guest.”

He watched them both for a minute, his eyes taking in just how alike they looked, before he quietly turned and walked away. He couldn’t be there anymore. She didn’t need him. She had Bill now, a real brother, someone who could take care of her better than he could.

Race could hear Mouse call after him but his feet wouldn’t let him stop and neither would his pride. He could feel the pressure building in his chest and the sting forming in the corner of his eyes but he pushed them away in favor of clinging to the anger he’d felt when she’d said she let Hearst’s goons catch her.

His feet automatically took him to Brooklyn, but he didn’t seek out Spot right away. There was no reason for his whatever he was to know he was upset. There would be too many questions and Race didn’t have any answers. Plus, Spot would probably want to march right over to Duane Street and knock Bill out and give Mouse a good yelling at to make sure she never did something that stupid again.

Race was too tired for that.

It took until sun down for him to finally seek out Spot, forcing a smile when he saw the King of Brooklyn.

“What’re you doin’ here?”

Race shrugged, leaning against the outside of the lodging house as Spot shooed the kids who were sitting out front with him inside. “Needed ta get outa Manhattan,” he answered honestly. “Where else was I gonna go?”

“No Mouse?” Spot asked, head craning to look down the street for her. “Guess this ain’t a business call.” The dark haired boy’s grin normally would have turned his insides into putty but all he could do was muster a shrug. “What’s goin’ on?”

So much for not running to Spot and spilling the beans.

He tried to change the subject but Spot just raised an eyebrow and stared at him until he gave him the whole story, ending with, “But don’t go runnin’ over there and startin’ a fight. “ 

\--

Spot stared at Race through his whole dramatic telling of the story of why he was in Brooklyn. Sometimes that kid was more long-winded than the Mouth at a union meeting. One of the things he liked most about Race was that most of the time, they weren’t really _talkin’_ at all. 

When the blonde finished, Spot rolled his eyes. “Youse an idiot.”

“Hey!” Race shrieked, a little too loud in Spot’s opinion. “What’s the big idea? I ain’t a idiot.”

“Uh, yeah ya are. Ya over here whinin’ ‘bout somethin’ stupid.”

“It ain’t stupid,” the other boy protested. “She been one a’ my best friends, like a little sister to me, and all of a sudden she got a rich brother and I been kicked to the curb. Ain’t stupid at all.”

Spot just stared at him, waiting for Race to crack a smile and say it was all a joke, that he wasn’t upset about what had happened, but the boy just kept staring at Spot like he’d been betrayed.

It struck him then that Race was serious, that he really was upset about Mouse and Bill and what had happened, but not that Mouse obviously had a hard time, but because he’d been left out. He was mad that he wasn’t there for her when she needed him, which was fair, but he was also mad that she’d tried to protect him. 

Idiot.

“What would you ‘a done?” Spot asked, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a cigarette. He offered one to Race, who shook his head. Spot shrugged and lit his, sliding down to sit on the ground with his back against the wall. “If you was in Mouse’s place, what would you a’ done?”

Race stared down at him for a minute before dropping to sit beside him. “If Bill was my brother?”

Spot rolled his eyes but nodded. “If ya needa think of it that way. If you was bein’ chased and decided ta just get caught sos you could see what all the fuss was about or whatever, would you a’ called Mouse and let her go?”

“Don’t be dumb,” Race said as he rolled his eyes and plucked the cigarette out from between Spot’s lips. He took a drag and blew out the smoke before handing it back. “A’course not. “

“Why?” Spot asked wit a shrug, taking his own puff. “Wouldn’t want her around no more?” 

“No, dummy, just in case so she wouldn’t get hurt or nothin’.”

Spot didn’t say anything, instead taking another long drag of the cigarette. It was almost funny the way Race’s face screwed up. To Spot, it looked like he was feeling some mixture of pain, confusion and realization. He wanted to laugh but was pretty sure that would screw up what they had so he just stayed quiet while Race worked out his thoughts.

“Oh shit.”

“Mhm,” Spot agreed, stubbing out the cigarette and crossing one ankle over another.

“I really screwed up,” Race said, his voice quiet, as if no one would hear the admission. “I screwed up real bad.” 

“Yup.”

“A little support would be nice,” the blonde spat, shoving at his arm.

“Ain’t gonna support you bein’ a dumbass,” Spot said with a shrug. “I’m on her side. If it was me, I wasn’t gonna let ya come either. Ya got a smart mouth an’ a hot temper. Plus, none a’ us know what Hearst is like. Pulitzer was one thing, old and mostly deaf and damn selfish. Don’t got no idea if Hearst would hit a kid or call the bulls. She’s smarter ‘an you. _Obviously_.” 

“Ya know, sometimes I really hate you. A lot,” Race said sourly, pushing himself up off the ground. 

“Mhm,” Spot agreed as he stood as well. “Come inside for the night. I’ll come back to Manhattan wi’ you tomorrow an’ make sure Mouse don’t soak ya for bein’ a dumb shit.” He paused. “Might let Davey try though ‘cause I can’t imagine him in a fight an’ I’d kinda like ta see what happens.”

“He’s fierce,” Race said seriously. “I wouldn’t wanna fight ‘em. I mean, I could take ‘em, a’course, but he’d get some good licks in fa’ sure. Prolly even worse since it’s Mouse I hurt.”

“Youse just lucky I ain’t soakin’ ya,” Spot told Race seriously as they climbed the steps and entered the lodging house. “Tha’s my girl you hurt.”

“Yeah, but I’m yer …” 

Race trailed off but Spot knew where he was going with the sentence. Neither of them ever said it out loud but they both knew it was true anyway. His eyes scanned the area and no one was around, but he still wasn’t about to finish that sentence. Not when there _could_ be someone just around the corner, waiting to get something that would end his authority over the kids.

“Yeah,” he agreed quickly. “But she’s my girl.”

“She was my girl first,” Race grumbled, trudging up the steps sulkily. “Don’t know why you get ‘a call ‘er your girl an’ I don’t.”

“Prolly ‘cause I ain’t as stupid as you are and I don’t need a’ run away when I say dumb shit ‘cause I _don’t say dumb shit_.”

“Shuddup,” the Manhattan boy grumbled, no heat behind his words, as he shoved Spot into the room that was his own when he stayed there.

Grinning, Spot shut the door. “Make me.”

\--

Mouse rested her head against his shoulder and all David could do was wrap his arm around her and give her the comfort she needed. She was so sad, heartbroken over Race and torn up about Miss Davies and Mr. Hearst, and David just wanted to take her pain away. Since he couldn’t do that, he was going to sit here with her as long as he could.

He’d sent Les home an hour ago, asking him to let their folks know he was staying at the lodging house for the night. He begged his brother not to say why, but to promise that he would fill them in when he could. Honestly, David had no idea if there were any restrictions on what people could say about Mouse’s real parents.

“Gotcha some water,” Albert said quietly as he handed over the tin cup to Mouse. She took it with a forced smile and sipped from it before handing it over to him.

David had never really felt this kind of helpless. There had been times when he’d wanted to be able to do more than he could at home, but he’d taken care of that. He had been terrified and unsure what to do when his father had gotten hurt. They struggled and went hungry before he finally made the most important proposal of his young life. He’d gotten a job and worked and provided for his folks. Sure, he was back in school now but his pop had a new job. He didn’t need to put food on the table anymore. 

He’d also felt helpless when Jack had disappeared after they all got beat up during the strike. He wasn’t a leader, barely knew most of the newsies, but had feared it would all fall apart if he didn’t take control. It took some careful thought to plan it out, but they’d gotten through as a team.

Now, he had another team he was on, the one of him and Margaret, and she needed his help. The trouble was, he had no idea if there was anything aside from just _being there_ that he could do for her. 

He was pulled from his thoughts when Specs caught his eye and nodded towards the front door.

“Mouse? Would it be okay if I step out for a minute? I’ll be right back.” She nodded so he stood, carefully shifting her over to Bill’s shoulder and then kissing her on the forehead. “I’ll be right back,” he promised before following his friend outside.

Specs shut the door behind them, crossing his arms over his chest and staring out at nothing. “Sorry. Won’t keep you long,” he assured David.

He shook his head. “It’s okay. What’s going on?”

“Just got word that Race is over in Brooklyn,” he answered. “Don’t think that’s a surprise but I thought you should know. He ain’t comin’ back tonight either, so I think we can probably just get Mouse ready for bed.”

He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. “About that,” he said slowly. “Who, uh … who stays with her? Since she’s – she obviously needs someone to be there for her tonight. Do we – should I ask Smalls?”

Mouse hated to be off-balance and that’s what she was right now. Off-balance, sad and hurt. She wasn’t as tactile a person as Jack, who would have probably just curled around Katherine – or anyone close enough to grab, really – and held on until he felt like himself again. For Mouse to want that closeness, he knew it was non-negotiable. She would never ask with words so he knew someone would have to give it to her without her having to.

Specs looked at him like he had six heads and David came to the realization of who he was going to say before he said it. “You,” the tall boy said as he pushed his glasses up his nose. “You’re her fella, ain’tcha?”

“Well, yeah,” David answered. He could feel his ears starting to burn. “But, y’know, that ain’t – I probably – it’s not really proper, is it?”

Specs barked out a laugh so loud that it actually made David take a step back. “Sorry,” the other boy said as he chuckled quietly to himself. “Rules like that don’t apply to newsies.”

“But I’m not a newsie anymore,” David pointed out, albeit a little sadly.

“Gaaaah,” Specs intoned, reaching over and punching David lightly on the arm. “Once a newsie, always a newsie.”

“I’ll ask Margaret who she wants to stay with her,” David decided. That was probably for the best anyway. Tonight, today, all of this was all about her and what would make her most comfortable. He did worry that she would say she wanted Race, but he knew if it were true, if she wasn’t broken or angry over his actions, David would walk to Brooklyn himself and drag Race back just to throw him onto a bunk so Mouse could cuddle with him all night.

He might punch the blonde once or twice along the way but he probably wouldn’t be blamed for that. The kid hurt his girl. And Blink had taught him how to throw a mean right hook.

David nodded to Specs, who waved him off, then headed back inside. He closed the door behind him and just leaned back against it, his eyes on Mouse and Bill. She looked so small sitting next to him, and it had nothing to do with her height. Her head was on his shoulder and both of their eyes were closed. If David hadn’t known the story, he would have thought they’d both just gotten cleaned up after coming home from war.

Squaring his shoulders, David made his way back over to the siblings and crouched down in front of them. His hand moved to gently rub Mouse’s knee, a blush creeping up to his ears as he did so. “Margaret?”

“Hmm?” she asked, opening an eye. “Oh. Hi.”

David smiled slightly. “Hi. Gettin’ kinda late. Wanna head up to bed?”

“You stayin’?” she murmured, reaching out her arms to him.

“Yeah,” he promised, standing and then taking her hands and helping her stand. She leaned against his side, her face pressed against him, and he smiled. He could admit he liked this side of her. She was softer and wanted to be closer. The only problem was he was sure it wouldn’t last forever. “I’m stayin’ the night.”

“With me?” she asked. Her face turned up to look at him and he knew that, despite the fact that his mother would have his hide if she knew, he would do whatever she wanted him to do, including sharing her bed.

“If that’s what you want.” She nodded, her face solemn but thankful. “Then of course.”

David took Mouse upstairs and waited outside the bunkroom so she could change, his back to the door and his hands clasped in front of him. He could feel his heart in his throat, the nerves making him shift slightly from side to side. Everything about this was considered inappropriate and he wondered if it could also be a sin. He was lying with a woman before marriage. Then again, he was _only_ lying with her, not anything else.

“Davey?”

His heart rate speeding up, he decided he would gladly be damned to hell if he could get that defeated tone out of Margaret’s voice. “Right here,” he assured her, walking into the bunkroom and smiling at her.

\--

Bill woke up the following morning, a crick in his neck and wishing so badly for a hot bath. He’d told his father that he was staying with Margaret that night but he’d intended on it being in a bed of some sort, not on a hard bench.

He reached up to rub at his face and smeared something over his eye and cheek. He heard chuckles and shushing noises as he looked down at his hand, white with some sort of lotion or cream.

“Funny,” he called out, wiping his hands on his pants and then pulling out his handkerchief and wiping off his face. 

“I know!” one of the boys called out, causing the other boys to chuckle and scatter.

He made his way upstairs to the bathroom and properly washed his face. When he looked up in the mirror, David was entering the room looking like he’d barely slept all night. He turned to his friend and offered a smile. “Rough night?”

David’s head snapped up to find him and then he relaxed. “Very,” he said softly. “Margaret slept some though. She’s sleeping now.”

“Good,” Bill nodded. “Yesterday was …" 

“What happened exactly?” David asked, walking to the sink and scrubbing his face with cold water from the pump. “I didn’t want to ask her.”

Bill steadied himself, leaning back against the sinks and nodding before he went into detail about Margaret’s meeting with his father. He didn’t know everything about what had happened with Miss Davies before he’d arrived, but he knew Margaret wasn’t in distress at that time. 

“And then … with Race?” 

Bill was less sure about that, the whole thing more of a blur, a few snapshots of words and emotions flashing in his mind, but he told David what he could remember anyway.

David rubbed his face again, this time it seemed as if it was in exhaustion and resignation. “I just don’t understand how he could act like that,” he said lowly, tiredly. “He’s been her whole world for so long. How could he think …?” 

“He didn’t,” Bill said sharply, softening it somewhat with a shrug. “He just reacted like an idiot and hurt Margaret.”

He could tell David agreed though he wasn’t willing to speak against his friend. Bill admired that, in a way. He wondered if he was in the same situation with Darcy whether he would be unwilling to side with someone other than his best friend.

“We should get the others up. Almost time for them to put up the headline and I don’t hear anyone moving around down there.”

“They’re up,” Bill deadpanned. He pointed to his stained pants with a rueful grin. 

“Looks like they gave you a proper welcome,” David laughed, adjusting his suspenders. “I just need to grab my vest and let Margaret know we’re heading out.”

Bill let David go wake Margaret while he made sure he was put together enough to make it back home before getting ready for work. He definitely wasn’t looking forward to seeing his father today but he still had a job to do.

By the time he finished up, David and Margaret were both gone. Figuring they’d made their way downstairs, he followed the same path.

When he got outside, it seemed the newsies were all gathered together, looking at something in the street. Romeo pushed him toward the front and when he was beside Margaret he could see what it was everyone was looking at.

Race and some other kid he didn’t know were standing there, the former with a sheepish smile on his face as he approached Margaret.

Without thinking, Bill moved to stand between his sister and the boy who’d hurt her. “Step back,” he warned Race.

The other boy rolled his eyes. “Ain’t here ta see _you_ ,” he retorted. 

“And you _ain’t_ going to see her. What you did was inexcusable and –“ 

“Move, Hearst. I ain’t gonna tell ya again.” 

Bill didn’t move for a moment and Race rolled his eyes again before trying to take another step forward. Reacting out of instinct, Bill shoved him back harshly. “And I’m not going to tell _you_ again.”

Race rebounded quickly, getting in his face and shoving him in retribution.

The act made something in Bill snap, causing him to tackle the other boy to the ground with a vicious yell.

\--

Mouse stood in the street, eyes feeling as if they might roll into the back of her head. Boys were such idiots. 

Spot moved over to stand beside her as they watched Bill and Race scuffle around in the street, both fighting for dominance. Race was quicker but Bill was stronger, so it turned into each flipping the other over, maybe getting in a hit and then the positions reversing.

“If they start kissing, I’m out of here,” Albert called out, making the others laugh or cheer. Spot shoved him hard, sending him sprawling, but he just grinned and stood up again.

“Should we break it up?” David asked softly into her ear. “They’re both going to be a mess.”

“Nah,” she answered as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Was bound ta happen sooner or later. Let ‘em get it done with.”

“Sure Race is glad it ain’t you, Mouth,” Spot added. “He said you was pretty good. Thinks he could still beat ya.”

Davey shrugged. “Probably could, but I ain’t gonna fight him.”

“Good,” she answered before Spot could goad Davey into joining the jumble of idiots on the ground. “Gonna be plenty of bruises to go around without you jumpin’ in.”

Romeo started taking bets when he realized the fight was a lot closer than any of them had thought it would be and it was still going on after more than a couple go rounds. She had to hide her laugh behind her hand when Spot put a nickel on Bill.

It was so evenly matched that it went on for at least five minutes before she put her fingers to her lips and let out a shrill, high pitched whistle. The boys froze and turned to look up at her with wide eyes.

“If you two are done, I think you and I need to have a conversation,” she said, eyes on Race. “In private.”

 


	14. Chapter Fourteen

“You’ve got some guts, charging Race like that,” David said passively, his hands jammed into his pockets as he rocked back on his heels. “You know he’s lived on the streets for a long time.” 

“I’m bigger,” Bill answered with a shrug. “I figured that had to count for something., and I was right.”

“Wouldn’t get too smug,” Spot added with a slight frown. “He might come atcha again if Mouse lets ‘em live. I ain’t sure if she’s gonna though.”

David sighed and sat down on the steps outside the lodging house. A glance over his shoulder let him know that the door was closed and Mouse had gotten Race far enough away that no one could eavesdrop. And while David really wanted to be a fly on the wall for that particular conversation, he knew it was something that needed to be handled between the two of them.

“Guys, I think the lodgin’ house is gonna be outa order for a bit. How’s about we head down ta Medda’s?” Specs suggested, which earned a cheer from some of the younger and less nosy newsboys.

Blink, Mush and Albert hung back a little, hoping that one of the few who were staying would give in and invite them to take a seat, but when Bill and Spot silently sat down, some space between them, the other three disbursed.

David let out another sigh and rested his chin in his hand. He hated this part. He was much more patient than any of his friends, but since he started a relationship with Margaret, he found himself less so when it came to matters of her. He looked over his shoulder again, half hoping to see the two of them coming out, arms linked and laughing like this whole mess never happened. It was wishful thinking, of course, but he couldn’t help it.

“So, you’re courting my sister? Officially?”

David looked up to see Bill watching him, jaw turning slightly purple from his scuffle with Race. “Uh, I donno what would make it official or anything,” he answered honestly.

He’d never had an “official” girlfriend so he didn’t know how to tell if that was what was going on with Margaret. He liked her and she was the only one he spent time with, but he wasn’t sure if that made it official.

He thought about what Specs had said the day before, when he’d called Margaret his girl and then sent him to take her to bed. Just the phrasing, even in his mind, made him blush. Nothing had happened, David had barely gotten any sleep at all, but just the thought of sharing a bed with a girl who wasn’t his wife set David’s cheeks and ears on fire.

Spot snorted but didn’t say anything. Thankfully, that drew Bill’s attention to the Brooklyn boy. “What’s that about?”

Spot shrugged. “Mouth don’t know if he’s Mouse’s boyfriend an’ it’s funny,” he answered unapologetically. “I gotcher answer. Yeah, yous her boyfriend.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t have shared a bed with her last night then,” Bill intoned, voice sharper than usual.

“Ho ho!” Spot cheered, jumping to his feet. “Yous two went to bed together last night? Didn’t think ya had it in ya!”

“Nothing happened!” David defended, jumping to his feet and holding his hands out in surrender. “I swear. I didn’t even really sleep. She just – we – she was hurt and sad and wanted me to be with her and to be honest, I wanted to be with her as bad as she wanted me there and –“

David cut himself off when he heard Bill’s first snort. That snort quickly turned into two, then three, then a loud guffaw before the son of one of the most powerful men in New York was doubled over laughing.

“The look on your face,” Bill chuckled. “David, honestly.”

Spot snorted as well, shaking his head. “Ain’t nice to rile up Mouth,” he told Bill. “He coulda gone on fa’ ages.”

“You’re both very rude,” David sniffed before sitting down again, this time slightly further away from the others, just to make a point.

It was interesting, watching Hearst and Spot bond over their joy at getting under his skin. He didn’t find the false anger funny at all. He’d never had a girlfriend before and therefore had no idea how to deal with an older brother.

It made him wonder idly if Sarah was going to say anything to Margaret about breaking his heart. He definitely hoped not; his sister could be downright scary when she wanted to be and he didn’t want Margaret to have any reason to drop him.

“What’re yous guys doin’ out here? The others said they was goin’ to Medda’s.”

The three boys all looked up to see Jack and Katherine approaching. The former looked curious and the latter looked calculating.

“Well, uh,” Bill started.

“You see, we, uh ..” David added.

Spot rolled his eyes. “Bill an’ Race got into a fight and Mouse took Race inside ta’ take ‘em ta’ task for being a dumb shit yesterday,” Spot answered. “So we’s sittin’ here ta’ make sure she don’t kill ‘em.” He paused. “Or ta’ help ‘er bury his body if she do.”

Jack laughed but Katherine gasped. “Bill!”

“It was justified,” he answered without remorse. “He hurt my sister and I wasn’t about to let that slide. I would have done the same if Jack here had hurt you.”

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me,” she replied quickly before placing hand on her stomach and closing her eyes. She took a deep breath before addressing Bill again. “I’m sorry. That was rather defensive of me. How did Racetrack hurt Margaret?”

“He was a dumb shit,” Spot responded in a tone that told them all that there was nothing further to say on the matter. “An’ now he’s gonna hear it from her an’ she’s gonna set ‘em straight an’ it’s gonna be over.”

Jack nodded along, not knowing what happened between the two newsies but obviously knowing the unspoken code Spot was referencing. David knew a bit of it but he would never fully understand it. He wasn’t even a newsie anymore, so he should probably try to forget their way of handling things but he couldn’t. His best friend and girlfriend were both living in that world and he didn’t want to be on the outside looking in.

“So yous guys are just gonna …”

“Wait out here until it’s settled one way or another?” Bill asked. “Yes.”

\--

Once he and Mouse made it inside the lodging house, he closed the door behind them. Race thought briefly about faking her out and making a run for it but he knew they would need to work this mess out before they could get back to being how they were.

He really _hoped_ they could get back to how they used to be, anyway. He wanted to be the fella she depended on, not Bill and not Davey. Maybe it was selfish of him but he liked the way things were before the rich kid figured out they looked alike and probably shared a dad.

Honestly, Race figured this whole thing was Davey’s fault. If he hadn’t put the idea of a strike into Jack’s head, they wouldn’a been at _The World_ that night and they never woulda met Hearst.

“Are you even paying attention to me?” Mouse asked, frustrated, her voice piercing through his thoughts.

His head snapped up and he winced. “Sorry. Was thinkin’.”

“Well you needa stop, which shouldn’t be too hard, and pay attention. If we wanna work this out, you needa be _here_ for it an’ not thinkin’ about the track or Spot or whatever. This is _important_ , Race.”

“I know,” he answered defensively. “Was jus’ thinkin’ ‘bout how this whole mess coulda been avoided.”

“Exactly,” she cried, her hands flying into the air. “If you woulda just thought about what I did from my perspective …”

“I mean this wouldn’a happened if we wasn’t strikin’,” he interrupted. “If we ain’t gone on strike, we wouldn’a met Bill.”

Frowning, Mouse just stared at him. Her frown melted into something softer, sadder, and Race knew he’d said the exact wrong thing. He _hated_ that look and wished she’d never given it to him.

“He’s my brother,” she said quietly. “Ain’t it fair fa’ me to know him?”

“I used ta’ be ya brother,” he responded, his voice as soft as hers. “Used ta’ be me an’ you against the world. Now ya got Davey an’ Bill an’ …”

“And you,” she responded, but her voice was unsure, almost like she was asking a question. It twisted something deep inside of him and he kind of wanted to throw up. “Right?”

He kind of felt like he couldn’t breathe. The look Mouse was giving him hurt in a physical way and he didn’t really know what to do about it. He’d never seen her like that before – something he’d been noticing a lot lately, her getting new looks and most of them not good – and he never wanted to see her like that again.

But he still hated that he’d been bumped from her best guy to, like, third in line. He didn’t know if Davey or Bill was number one but part of him hated both of them because of it. He hated Davey for becoming a newsie, he hated Davey’s dad for getting hurt and he hated the guy who hurt Davey’s dad.

He hated Bill and Jack and Katherine for introducing Bill to her.

But he didn’t hate Mouse for any of it and he needed to make sure she knew that.

“Of course,” he said, unable to keep the resigned tone from his voice. “I just wish I wasn’t – I wish I was the guy ya came to first.”

“You are,” she responded with a frown. “Always will be.”

“But yestaday …”

“I didn’t know Bill was gonna be there,” she answered, causing his stomach to drop. “I didn’t want no one there just in case. I didn’t know what was gonna happen once Hearst got his hands on me an’ I didn’t want nothin’ ta’ happen ta’ you or Bill or Davey if he wasn’t so welcomin’. Which he wasn’t but he didn’t hurt me or throw me in the basement or nothin’.”

“Yous didn’t know Bill was there?”

“No!” she answered hotly. He figured she was mad because he made her repeat herself but he didn’t really care. “I said that!”

“Ya didn’t go ta’ him for help insteada me?”

“Are ya deaf?” she answered shoving him slightly. It made him grin.

“I jus’ thought …”

“No, ya didn’t. Ya got jealous an’ stupid an’ ran ta’ Spot ‘fore we could even talk about it, ya nitwit.”

“Hey! No need fa’ name-callin’,” he frowned. At her arched brow, he deflated a bit. “Okay, maybe a little need.”

“Can we be done fighting now?” she asked, some of the fire in her eyes lessening. “Please? I had a damn bad day yesterday an’ could really use some best friend time.”

“Not brother or boyfriend?”

“Well, ya kinda like my brother but you definitely ain’t my boyfriend,” she answered. “But we should probably tell ‘em we ain’t killed each other.”

“Like they would think I could kill you,” he snorted, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “They’s probably waitin’ ta’ get ridda my body once yous done with me.”

Mouse tossed her head back and laughed brightly. “Probably. Ain’t a one of ‘em wouldn’t help me neither. I’m their favorite.”

“Mine too,” he grinned, tugging her back towards the door, his arm still around her. “Well, you an’ Spot.”

“Uh huh,” she laughed. “Too bad I’m his favorite too.”

\--

When she and Race got outside, she was a little surprised to see no one but Davey, Spot, Jack and Katherine there. In fact, she was a little surprised no one had tried to bust in to watch her and Race have it out.

“What’s goin’ on, fellas?” she asked. She quickly added, “And lady.”

“Everythin’ okay?” Jack asked, his wary eyes scanning them both for injuries.

“Yup,” Race answered for both of them. “We’s good.”

Bill stood and dusted off his pants. “Are you sure?” he asked, his eyes on her.

“Yeah,” she answered, happy for the first time in what felt like years. “Now yous two just needa make up. An’ no more fightin’. Looked pathetic.”

Race shoved her away while she cackled. She knew it had to take a lot for him to stick out his hand and mumble that he was sorry. Her best friend was stubborn and prideful and it was a pain in the ass on a good day. She loved him, though, and she knew that this was a big deal.

Bill reluctantly followed suit, shaking Race’s hand and muttering a “yeah, me too” before quickly withdrawing and taking a step back. It looked like he was worried Race was going to jump him. The thought made her laugh.

With the truce in place, she looked at the small crowd. “So where’s the others?”

“Medda’s,” Jack answered. “The girls got a new routine they’s workin’ on.”

Squinting her eyes against the bright glare of the sun, she looked up at Race, then over to Davey and Bill. “Ya wanna go?” she asked. Turning to Jack and Katherine, she added, “All yous?”

Katherine linked her arm through Jack’s and smiled, nodding. Mouse knew that she could count on the other girl to help her out and make sure their weird little family stayed on track right now. “Sounds great. Maybe I can write another review,” she tacked on, giggling as she bumped her hip against Jack’s.

He laughed too, his cheeks staining a light pink. “Maybe this time ya won’t have a street rat botherin’ ya so yous can watch it properly.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she rejoined, starting down the street, “I think that interruption turned out just fine in the end. Bill, join us?”

Bill grinned back at her and the others before nodding and jogging up on Katherine's other side, offering his arm to her.  Mouse couldn't tell what either of them said but the squawk she heard from Jack was enough to make her chuckle.

“Let’s go,” Spot said to Race, nodding for him to follow.

“But I’m gonna …” Spot gave him a look that Mouse really didn’t want to think about as her best friend jumped up to reach Spot’s side.

“We’ll meetcha there,” the Brooklyn boy said before leading Race to the next block and making a left.

Laughing, she looked up at Davey. “Looks like it’s just me an’ you,” she said with a smile.

“I thought we were going to the theatre,” he said, smiling and arching a brow. “Change your mind?”

“No,” she answered honestly, shrugging with one shoulder. “But maybe we could be a little late.”

“Oh? And what do you plan on doing that would cause us to be _a little late_?” he asked.

Mouse bit down on her bottom lip and looked away, trying to be as cool and sophisticated as Katherine was. “Donno. Thought maybe I could thank you proper for bein’ there for me last night and stuff.”

Davey turned a bright red and opened his mouth to say something before closing his mouth again silently. It was endearing and she made the familiar vow to make sure he turned that color as often as possible. “Okay,” he finally squeaked out.

Laughing, Mouse took his hand. “Davey …”

He didn’t give her a chance to continue, instead swooping down to press his lips against hers.

After a moment, she pulled back, her lips tingling and her cheeks warm. “Okay.”

“Okay, what?” he asked with a slight chuckle.

“Huh?” she asked, her head spinning. She thought that might have been the first time he initiated a lips-on-lips kiss.

Shaking his head, he smiled and bent down to wrap her in a tight, comforting hug.  “I’m glad everything worked out,” he said softly. “I know you hate when you and Race are fighting.”

“I am too,” she answered, pressing her face into his chest. “It ain’t all better yet ‘cause I donno what’s gonna happen with Hearst and Davies.” She paused. “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, concern evident.

“Davies is my mom and Davey is my boyfriend,” she asked. “That’s just weird.”

Davey laughed, shaking his head. “Y’know, you’re pretty cute. Strange, but cute.”

“Shut up,” Mouse replied, shoving him. “Let’s go have some of that proper thankin’ an’ then head over to Medda’s. I kinda wanna beat Racer there an’ tell the fellas I killed ‘em. Jus’ ta see what they say, a’course.”

“You’re somethin’ else,” Davey said, shaking his head and pressing a kiss to her cheek. “But how about we go do that now and save the thankin’ for another time?”

She knew Davey was still a nervous guy and wasn’t used to the touching and closeness, so she nodded. Mouse could wait for him for as long as she needed to. She liked him a lot and didn’t see that changing any time soon.

“Sure,” she agreed as she laced their fingers together. “Let’s go make our friends think I killed Racetrack.”

“Sounds like a typical afternoon to me,” he agreed, laughing and squeezing her fingers a bit.

She didn’t respond, instead just heading down the road toward the direction of Irving Hall. Things weren’t all settled yet, since she was sure she and Bill would have to figure out what to do about their family, but things were probably as good as they were going to get for now. Mouse had her best friend, her brother and her guy; she had a ragtag group of friends who would fight to the death for her; she had a pretty damn good life and even if nothing ever came from Hearst Senior and Miss Davies, she still had a brother who cared for her.

Whatever happened in the future, right then, she had a fine life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, folks, this is it. Thank you all so much for reading along and following this part of Mouse's life. 
> 
> This was written while waiting for my mine to get out of neck/spinal surgery so if it doesn't make sense/stinks/has a ton of errors, I'm sorry!
> 
> Life has been coming fast and hard at me this year and I didn't want to just abandon my girl and this ragtag group of boys. Maybe in the future I'll write a sequel, but for now, this is where we leave it.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's taken the time to read, leave kudos and comment. I appreciate the love! - Sam
> 
> Edit: 100% had to add something to the end of the chapter - I totally forgot Bill was there and didn't even acknowledge him leaving. That's been fixed. Thanks again!


End file.
